


To The Brink

by hellorhogwartsfics



Series: Marriage or Bust [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Extramarital Affairs, F/F, also smut, fluff will come soon, tw guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 10:15:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 130,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22848511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellorhogwartsfics/pseuds/hellorhogwartsfics
Summary: It’s over. It’s real. Asami has married him.In the aftermath Korra must live with the consequences of her inertia, and crush her feelings for good if she wants to keep her friend.For Asami marriage doesn’t feel how she expected, and she feels her best friend pulling away.They face the fight to stay together, or risk their worlds falling apart.[The Honeymooner's sister piece - same universe different decisions]
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Series: Marriage or Bust [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1642534
Comments: 616
Kudos: 1553





	1. A Lot’s Gonna Change - Weyes Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Along with writing this, I've been curating a bit of a sound track of songs that inspire the story.  
> Hopefully 2 per chapter but we'll see how that goes.  
> 1st song (listen while reading maybe?) - A Lot’s Gonna Change - Weyes Blood  
> 2nd song - (listen at the end of Chap? or don't I'm a ff writer not a cop) To Love You - The Family Crest

Korra's nightmares were made of this. 

Her best friend, the blushing bride, smiling up at _him_. 

As he tossed the veil over her head, Korra saw it in slow motion. In her mind she could change the angle, the colour and size of the hands, see her own fingers trace the lace and thumb them, and arc the material up gently, savouring each moment, living deep within the daydream. All this she can imagine; instead of Iroh’s lumbering and ungraceful throw. 

Asami smiled at him all the same.

Korra’s heart was stopping and starting, and her mind casting back through their decade of friendship, obsessing over the opportunities lost to entropy. 

She settled on the teenage girl getting her ass kicked, and Asami looming over her, braces glinting like starlight, worrying over her for the first time. 

Korra knew then what she knew now; she never had a chance. 

She felt sick, twisting roses in her grip, almost snapping their stems, until Opal’s cold fingers calmed her wrist. 

Opal knew her secret, and like any good samaritan she reached out when she could. Ordinarily Korra had the grace to thank her with a wounded half smile, but in that moment, pressed up against her greatest fear, she was frozen.

The only way through was out, the scene in front of her was too much to bear, and all Korra could do was retreat into her mind. Asami would have known it if she were looking at her, she would have cupped her cheeks and her lips would move until the whispers made it through.

Alone in it Korra floated high above the scene, tears leaking, writing a list in her head to pass the time. 

_If I’m going to keep you,_ she thought, _I have to let you go._

She thought about what she’d miss most, the hugs, perhaps, the feint fleeting memories of her hands clinging her own, so precious she often thought they too were imagined.

_No more touching,_ she vowed, _it shouldn’t be that hard._

_See her no more than once a week._ She added, catching the glint of gold sliding along Asami’s ring finger. _Once a month._ She corrected, knowing even seven days of separation wouldn’t be enough to dull her infatuation. 

_She can never know,_ the bride sealed the bond with a modest kiss, _even if it is too late to change anything._

_I love her,_ she held the words inside in silence, closing her eyes and letting them hold her, for what she prayed would be the last time. This was something she’d tried before, most mornings coming to consciousness, or falling asleep in the small hours of the night she found herself whispering it before she could stop herself. _I love Asami._ For no good reason her foolish heart has held on, but the scene in front of her was punishment enough, maybe the prayer would stick. 

The guests applauded, Korra made a point of returning to her body, clapping along. Asami had turned to her now, in the cacophony of sounds Korra couldn’t read the moment to understand what was going on. A pale hand graced her left cheek, red lips her right, and Korra swore the heavens above opened up and poured light and voices over them both, until she sidestepped her and kissed Opal’s cheek, then Bolin’s and finally Mako’s before rushing into that next part of her life.

_Fuck._

****

“You don’t smoke,” hers was the voice Korra could catch in any crowd, her presence the only thing that had the down on the back of her neck standing up.

Korra fumbled with the lit cigarette in her fingers, doing every thing she could not to look back at the bride, staring at the butt and contemplating a drag. 

“I didn’t want to just be standing out here doing nothing,” she shrugged, eyes catching involuntarily on the emerald eyes now in her periphery. Leaning over the balcony that had Republic City at their feet, winking up at them light by light. “Shouldn’t you be in there? Enjoying your party?”

“That party?,” the bride shrugged, tactically removing the cig from Korra’s prone fingers, “It’s kind of lame now that my best friend isn’t in there,”

“It’s pronounced _Lamé_ ,” Korra teased half heartedly, pinching at Asami’s painstakingly selected Versacé dress. 

Asami hip checked her, only instead of bounding away, she kept their sides flush, so she could taunt her with a chin against her shoulder. _Right on cue,_ Asami thought, watching Korra’s neck and shoulders tense, hackles raised and jaw set. 

“I just needed a minute,” Korra whispered in a neutral tone, brooding over the city. Asami supposedshe sought solace because weddings might not be her thing. What with the Tribe’s current views on homosexuality. She tacked on that loud noises and music sometimes overwhelmed her PTSD afflicted friend despite once upon a time being fun loving and  fancy free. She even mused that Korra hadn’t found her happily ever after like she had, and was taking the time to contemplate catching up. 

Korra adored how understanding her best friend could be, but right then Korra wished she would just _ask._ Asami seemed satisfied with the unsaid and the fog that came with it, and it honestly drove her best friend crazy.

“It’s okay,” was all she said, enjoying the cool breeze on the empty balcony that deterred party goers from lingering, but was delightful in their warm little huddle. Face flush with alcohol, community, reverie and dancing. The bride offered her back her cigarette. “I’ll wait with you until you finish coughing up your lungs,”

“Get _bent_ ,” Korra chuckled wriggling away unsuccessfully, taking it back.

“You want a bump?”

“A _bump?”_ Asami balked, grinning, smile fading as she watched her best friend place the little stick of death between plump lips, pursing them just so, relighting the end and breathing in the fire. She couldn’t help but stare as Korra’s lips parted with an ‘o’ blowing the smoke swirling into the night. Asami couldn’t pin point why she found that moment so mesmerising. It took perhaps too long for her to respond.

“I quit a long time ago,” Asami remarked, emerald eyes falling, seeing the darkest time when the only light was the crackle of burning black and orange sunset tobacco and the short lived calm that came with it. 

“The look on your face tells me you miss it,” Korra teased, inhaling another. 

There were things Korra was keeping from her, Asami knew, this was another she so happened to have stumbled upon. 

When they were teenagers, idealistic if a little rebellious, Korra would watch while Asami smoked, while being anti-smoking herself. Much had changed since, and it stung a little that Korra had learned without her, and sober Asami would have said something, if tipsy Asami wasn’t so captivated by it. 

She imagined Korra in bars on nights out, using it as an excuse to stand outside in the quiet chatting up women, smoke and sweet nothings floating from her lips. Inexplicably the image became bright and vivid in the back of her mind. 

She watched the corners turn up of Korra’s mouth, the shape of it plumed and dancing with the smoke, Asami supposed it was the alcohol making it all so fascinating, but she thought better than to ask. 

A welt of dread and panic bubbled in the brides chest suddenly, but in a flash the feeling was gone, replaced by the usual neutrality that she so depended upon for most things.

“But I stopped because I knew it was _bad for me,”_

Again too long before Asami took charge, snatching the cigarette back, flicking it over the edge.

“Come on,” the bride ordered, “Mako’s been doing a two-step for twenty minutes, we have to go save him from himself,” before taking Korra’s wrist and guiding her back inside, without another word.

**** 

Despite her new rules, Korra had a hard time setting a precedent. Asami's firm grip on her heart strings lead her through the flow of the evening. It was so easy to fall into those old patterns, to let the joy her best friend brought her fill her to the brim every second they were together. In her mind it was because this was the last night she could feel this way, at home in the pleasure of the Bride’s company. 

“I can’t believe you did this,” Asami gushed, eyes turn up at the 7ft ice sculpture she had commissioned from her best friend, “Korra it’s…” She covered her lips, and chest in quick succession, gazing up at a rendering of herself and her husband in and embrace of calm repose. 

While they two were the obvious feature, their togetherness, their convergence, she couldn’t help but marvel at just herself. Asami wasn’t vain, she considered makeup to be an art of war, but the way Korra had sculpted her face so beautifully, she felt the affection in waves. Only someone who loved her could see her like that.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Korra blushed modestly, hand habitually curling around the back of her neck..

“It’s incredible Korra,” Iroh slung his arms behind his new wife from behind, mirroring their ice-selves, “You’ve captured us completely,” he added shaking his head. 

_You_ really _don’t have to say anything,_ Korra seethed internally. 

She didn’t hate Iroh, she just loathed that he took away any hope she ever had at happiness and was ignorant to the pain his every word and breath and _being_ extinguished that hope with the force of a thousand typhoons. Hate was a strong word. What Korra felt was stronger and infinitely more intense to manage. 

Thankfully her throat had closed, making it difficult to unload a volcano of vehemence she had been saving for him for quite sometime now. 

Korra wished the symptoms of her heartache weren’t so physical as she watched Iroh twirl and lift his bride. He had her chest burning and face grow hot. Her entire body thrumming with ugly, bubbling jealousy. 

She was almost glad to see Asami pour herself into the back of the limo, but not before an agonising, lingering, gut wrenching, last embrace.

“I’ll see you in three weeks okay?” she slurred, rocking side to side with glee and a lack of overall balance. An impressive feat considering how physically tense Korra was. “Stay safe until I get back,”

“I’ll be fine,” Korra chagrinned, “Go have fun on your _ahem, go have fun_ , I’ll be fine,” Korra kept speaking in the hopes she could extricate herself from the trap she was in.

Asami stepped back to press her forehead over Korra’s before she could retreat to safety. Little did she know the Sculptor was torn between savouring this last moment, and desperately trying to end it. Stuffing her feelings into a little black box she could open in a few decades, in the comfort of a therapists office, or padded cell. 

“I know you will,” she was drunk, and illegible, but somehow heartwarming and awe inspiring at the same time, pouring her loving good vibes into her with her hands and goofy grin. The conscious part of Asami marked the moments she was like this, giddy and content, sometimes Korra felt like her last living family member, that she could smile at and hold close and feel utterly protected by. No husband could ever match that, she knew. “I’m so happy you’re here, K,” she whispered, brushing her cheek into the warm crook of her neck.

“Forget about me,” Korra hushed her, in a voice tight it almost sounded like a warning.

The bride looked stung when she opened her eyes, squeezing her hands as words failed her.

“Asami you ready?” Her husband beckoned. 

“I’ll call you when we get there,” she urged.

“You don’t have to-”

“Stay near a phone!” Asami winked, perception of the moment sliding into the default, the reality didn’t match her expectation; but why would Korra ever be sad on a day like today? 

“Goodbye Korra, _goodbye everyone!”_ Iroh laughed and waved chasing after his new wife like a puppy with a plaything.

Korra noticed after the limo was gone the way her hands had gripped the empty space where Asami had been. For a split second she wondered how running after that limo would play out. 

“Hey,” Opal’s voice had the fantasy come crashing down around her. “You did really well,”

Korra couldn’t help but flinch when her hand met her shoulder. 

“ _Did I_?” she snapped, “Sorry,” Korra’s eyes widened and shame coursed through her, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”

“I know,” Opal had her in her orbit when she spoke then, and her arms around her when she added, “I’m so sorry Korra," 

It was the first time in years Korra let her self melt into another person, exhausted from struggling, weak from incredible loss, she let Opal prop her up as she took in gasping, grounding breaths.

_It’s really over._

It took a moment for her to realise exactly what she was doing, Korra reeled, exposed, panicked, wiping her tears and scanning for witnesses. Only Opal.

“Bolin and I can give you a ride home,” 

“ _No,”_ she sniffed, “I’ll walk,”

“Across town?”

“I need it,” she braved eye contact, taking the last of her strength and pushing it to the forefront for Opal to see. “I’m okay, I’ll be okay,”

“You know it’s okay not to be right?” 

“I know.” Korra crossed her arms, angling her body in the direction of home, “thank you…for your discretion.”

Opal gave her a weak smile, the kind you’d give to a hopeless case or wounded animal. 

“Whatever you need.”

Korra tried not to wince at the pitiful creature she saw reflected in Opal’s big doe-like jade eyes. One of her folded hands gave a weak wave, and she started on the long mindless walk to the firehouse she called home.

She was just over half way there when a voice called to her from the glow and glitz of a hole-in-the-wall bar.

“Hey hot stuff,”

Korra didn’t expect to hear someone she recognised this late or lost. 

“Hey you,” Korra turned to her, lips braving a half smile, fully aware it may be slapped off at any moment. The smoking woman recognised her instantly.

“You didn’t call,” she pouted theatrically. A brunette with sharper edges, and eyes a paler green, but a draw to Korra all the same.

“Yeah, sorry…I’ve kind of been going through it.”

“I can see that,”

The taller woman regarded her with a forgiving heart, tousled, dressed to the nines with nowhere to go at 3am. 

After the one night Korra had given her some weeks ago it was hard not to. She couldn’t have guessed the incredible self-less pillow queen session they’d had was Korra pretending to have someone unobtainable. 

This mysterious gorgeous blue eyed stranger had come into her life, shown her the curvature of the earth and left her wondering if gods walked among us. 

“You can make it up to me.” she winked dropping her cigarette and crushing it underfoot. She exuded confidence and a touch of malice, as she lived in the moment she’d been hoping for since leaving Korra’s firehouse that morning. Combing her fingers through that gorgeous head of chestnut hair, and capturing Korra in that hard kiss. 

It occurred to her that this was a bad idea, but as she tasted smoke and felt heat coursing through her from another body, she lost the capacity to give a fuck. She wanted to watch the world burn, and her firehouse was merely minutes away.

Korra woke that following morning, beleaguered and exasperated that she could spend the night between someone's legs and still taste Asami's name on her lips. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this came about so late, I know previously I mentioned I'd be writing Christmas, but the season was a hard one, and while I was writing this in my head, the hands and heart weren't willing. 
> 
> I'm doing better now.


	2. Sappho - Frankie Cosmos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for Chapter 2 - 1/2  
> Sappho - Frankie Cosmos

It would take Asami almost the entire day to unravel the long languishing event of the night before. Unravelling is what she called sobering up. 

Her face firmly planted in rouge silk sheets and coming to consciousness, she couldn’t help but compare it to the expectations she’d long since had. 

Sure enough Iroh matched the tall dark and handsome silhouette that had been burned into her childhood psyche. To a tee he played the part, even lifting her over the threshold to their hotel room. 

This was the first morning of her honeymoon. She gave last night a pass because they were both too exhausted to move beyond untangling Asami’s wedding dress, for the first short drunken encounter that consummated their marriage. _He tried, bless him,_ she mused although after the way his army buddies were feeding shots through a funnel she was hardly surprised that he rolled over so soon after.

Still she hoped that life-fulfilling happiness would linger past the morning. The honeymooner mused that tequila had that affect on her, so when she woke without her husband, she tried not to let it get her down.

Standing she winced, immediately tangled in a clothes line of photos. _Ugh,_ she thought, _honeymoon newlywed deluxe package, it seemed like such a good idea at the time._ She plucked the pegs entangled in her silk locks away and disengaged the photo that almost took her eye out. 

_Oh Korra,_ she smiled at her best friend's shocked expression captured in a flash as she and Iroh kissed her cheeks in a sneak attack. _Forget about me._ She remembered her last words to her. Asami felt a spike of worry, reliving the moment that was shrouded in haze, as she played it, she noted that patented Korra half smirk. 

The slight smile that told her she in fact didn’t know her best friend as well as she thought, and she never will. 

_No,_ Asami seethed reaching for the phone, _if she thinks because I’ve gotten married I’ve stopped being her best friend she’s got another thing coming…_

****

Korra chewed her fingernail, eyeing her own bedroom door. 

Her apartment bathed in morning light, she usually found a solace in watching the shadows shrink as the sun rose with the day, except now she was adrift in her own anxious thoughts. As one is want to after taking part in a bad idea. 

Shrill ringing shocked her out of her reverie, and desperate not to wake the sleeping mistake in the next room she dove for it, slapping the handset off the wall, catching and cupping the receiver so her voice wouldn’t carry.

“Hello?” she spoke in a hushed tone, eyeing the body in the bed through the crack, who stirred but did not wake. 

“ _Hey,”_ the first and last voice she wanted to hear percolated over her in a rush. 

“Hey shouldn’t you be enjoying your honeymoon?”

“ _I am, I just wanted to call my best gal, check everything was ok after all that drinking…Iroh and I are just getting out of our hangovers.”_

“Oh,” Korra balked. “I’m okay.”

“ _Why are you whispering?”_ Asami asked, Korra could hear the teasing smile on her lips already.

“The _time_ ,” Korra scrambled to cover the truth, still working her way through it as it was, “It’s early… 7 am,” it was early for Korra at least.

“ _Oh god, sorry, but you’re awake? Why? Are you with someone?”_

“I-uh,”

_“Did you hook up!”_ Asami whispered excitedly, _“Who is it? Do I know her? Is it a her?”_

“It’s complicated,” _so complicated,_ Korra tacked on, noting her own heart pounding in her chest as her many secrets came close.

“ _Complicated how? Korra I’m a married lady now - I can take the details, dish!”_ Asami pressed, the reminder of her marriage had Korra’s heart sinking low in her torso, and she became lost in that feeling once again. Korra never spoke to Asami about her love life, and ordinarily she dodged the questions and omitted certain truths. Today she was caught off guard, and she could really use a friend, if only it wasn’t the one who made her lips quiver and palms sweat. 

“ _I can keep a secret,”_ Asami added conspiratorially. _“I’ll be your best friend?”_

Korra’s sunken heart was still pounding, and in her inertia she had only the energy to cradle the phone to her ear and listen to Asami’s breaths. 

“ _Just a name, an initial, anything,”_ She could hear Asami losing patience with her, pressing her toe against the door that hid the secrets. One more question and it would become ajar. Korra couldn’t have that.

“I don’t know her name.” it was only after she said it Korra realised she didn’t want Asami to see her this way, but it was better than the alternative, “We met at a bar,”

_“Oh my god,”_ her best friend made a noise something between a gasp and exclamation, a eureka, stumbling quite unexpectedly over something new about her best friend. _“How do you not know her name?”_

Korra winced, training her eyes on the peaceful scene, the moving shadows, the peaches and purples that coloured her living room, the harsh silhouette of her running machine, curved over the crannies of carpet, couch and fur cushions.

“It was loud, we didn’t really speak,”

_“What about the walk home?”_

“Cab, we were…otherwise occupied.”

_“Oh my god,”_

“Will you stop saying oh my god?” Korra couldn’t help but smirk a little, but the levity in the Asami's voice couldn’t help but move her. 

_“Korra - as long as I’ve known you I’ve never known you to have one night stands, hell the only reason I know you’re gay is because a girl walked up to at a party and kissed you_ thanking you _for the night before, I mean I’m your best friend but you keep so much from me-”_

“I know.” Korra hushed, “I’m not exactly comfortable talking about it okay?”

_“But you can hook up with a total stranger?”_

“Yes,” 

“ _Oh_ ,” Korra listened to the wind get knocked out of her, but for someone so perceptive, she couldn’t pinpoint why her best friend would make such a noise. “ _How many?”_

“I…don’t think I’ve counted.” Korra scoffed, body vibrating, this type of honesty as her wired and thrumming, as terrified as she was, there was also something liberating about telling _someone._ She chose her words with the utmost care. “It doesn’t happen often,” Korra felt the need to express, “but I guess I just,” _don’t say it, don’t say it,_ “Got lucky,” _goddammit_.

“ _Wait you hooked up the night of my wedding?”_

Korra’s swirling brain stilled for a moment, it was not the question, but the way it was asked, that gave her pause before responding.

“No-one you know… and or are working with.” Korra couldn’t help but clutch at her shirt above her chest as she felt a sting of shame. “I’d…hooked up with her before.” Korra winced at a phrase so uncouth. 

_“And you don’t know her name? What have you been doing?”_

“We got back, we…slept together… she fell asleep just now… I’m just, I’m sure it came up but I forgot or wasn’t listening, or concentrating on something else….what? You’ve gone quiet?”

_“You haven’t slept you’ve just been…?”_

“What?” 

_“All night?”_

“I don’t understand.”

Again the she fell to silence, and Korra listened to it curiously. 

_“Nothing,”_

“What?” Korra pressed, instantly feeling hypocritical, but it was a knee jerk reaction.

“ _I’m feeling a little jealous,”_ Asami answered, and it made Korra’s heart stop, “ _Iroh and I have to catch up,”_

Korra had to stop herself from retching.

_“_ Asami-” she warned.

“ _I know, I know, you don’t want to talk about it.”_ Asami hushed on the other side, “ _we’re adults you know its okay, but it’s personal. I get it, but Korra,”_ Korra’s body tingled at the sound of her name passing through those lips, it was an involuntary, and unfortunate reaction, “ _you can tell me anything okay? I’m not here to judge.”_

A litany of responses flowed through Korra’s psyche then, some of anger, or _of_ despair, or the rolodex of lies Korra kept to turn her friend away from the truth. Instead, and this was part of her vow to become a better friend, she answered sincerity with sincerity.

“I know.” Korra frowned. 

“ _So how do we solve a problem like Blank here?”_

“It’s just what I was trying to figure out.”

“ _I could call Opal, have her pop by early and when they shake hands-“_

_“No,”_ Korra interjected, the last thing she needed now was Opal’s pitying gaze, and more of a reason for her to interfere, “I need this…separate…also its early.”

_“Can you cast your mind back to perhaps the first time she spoke to you?”_

Korra didn’t even have to close her eyes to remember the first time the Stranger spoke to her all those weeks back. Against brick in an alley her arms her full, her mind elsewhere as she breathed an introduction that Korra simply couldn’t grasp at the time.

“I was kissing her neck.”

She heard a fumble and the phone clattered on something making the receiver wince.

“Asami?”

“ _Sorry this is just, sorry you-,”_ she snatched the phone back by it’s cord and rushed to keep Korra on the line. " _Not judging_." she urged.

The Carmaker was ingesting mountains of information in the unspoken. What she knew of Korra, and what she now knew, merging unceremoniously as her tactical pragmatic mind filled in the gaps. Korra could entice, seduce and bed a woman without so much as speaking a word on a good night. Not only was she unaware that such a person existed, but she’d been sharing secrets, sleepovers and movie nights with one for years.

“It’s okay,” Korra felt her face flush, exposed, ashamed, head throbbing. “I’ll figure it out.”

“ _K wait,”_

“Why did you call?” Korra tried her best not to seem defensive. 

_“To see if you were okay…last night you seemed off,”_

“You were drunk, we were all drinking… It's fine, it was your wedding.”

“ _Is that really it?”_

Korra held her breath, again searching, again off her game.

“I said I’m fine.”

Again a silence, unexplained but shared all the same. Asami was beginning to learn Korra said more with nothing that with her actual words, and began to turn the pieces of the puzzle in her head, searching for the corners. _Create the frame first,_ her father would tell her, _the rest will fall into place._

_“Okay,”_ she breathed.

“You go,” Korra told her, tone unreadable “Enjoy your honeymoon.”

“ _I will,”_ as well wishes go, this one seemed to leave a bitter taste in Asami’s mouth.

_“_ Bye,”

_“Goodbye Korra,”_

Korra set the receiver down somewhat reluctantly, she couldn’t explain why, that conversation was agony. Still plastic met plastic in a gentle way, and just as inexplicably her mouth formed the words.

“Without me,” Immediately she berated herself for it.

Her gaze had fallen from its vigilance, and on its return she found the body she had been watching had moved. 

_Shit._

The ajar, became the open, and the Stranger from last night stepped through, mussed, half dressed. 

“Water?” she ignored that she had been left alone. 

“Uh,” Korra balked, “Sure,” she obliged in silence, avoiding eye contact, longing to disappear into the ether, praying she hadn’t been overheard. 

The stranger stood beside her when the water was ready to serve, took it to her ruby lips and sipped gratefully. 

“What you’ve been through, I presume?”

Korra regarded her, palms flat on the counter, before nodding, decidedly weak. 

“It gets better you know, with time.”

“What does?” 

“Anything.” the stranger shrugged casually. _What do you know about it?_ Korra seethed, but this girl didn’t deserve it. She deserved so much more than Korra was capable of then, “And it’s June, by the way.” June extended her hand out, “June Shirshu,”

Gingerly Korra placed her palm under June’s who shook it twice, before leading her back to her own bed.

“Time and sleep,” she explained, to which the Ice Sculptor was skeptical, but grateful for all the same. 

****

“ _Good morning, wife!”_ Iroh entered the room like a gameshow host, baring prizes and precious coffee. 

“Hey _hubby_ ,” she scrunched her nose immediately at the new nickname, before adding, “no,” it just didn’t taste right. 

Iroh chuckled, grinning, and placed a lumbering kiss over her forehead.

“Cursing that free bar of ours?”

“How could such tiny drinks cause such devastating damage?” Asami mused sipping java elixir.

“Too much damage you can’t enjoy being felt up by a stranger or a dip in the deep blue lagoon on our Island Getaway honeymoon that awaits us?”

“Not if I shower first,” Asami smiled, despite feeling unsettled by the call she’d just had with her best friend, but it was too much to put on Iroh this early, “Where were you?”

“We left the plane tickets in your office.” Iroh shrugged, “That almost set our trip off the rails!”

Asami’s eyebrows shot up, speechless, for someone so prepared for every eventuality, the near miss shook her. Iroh shrugged and kissed her quick.

“Jitters I guess,” she concluded aloud, sipping coffee and b-lining for the bathroom and a warm cleansing shower.

Doused in the spray she lathered and washed letting her mind wander. With all this new evidence presented to her on her best friend, by her best friend, she tried to place it all in her mind. 

Korra in a bar, her blue eyes cutting through darkness, catching someone beautiful. Her best friend was beautiful so it stands to reason whomever she chose would be too. Without words how was it possible? What could she say without speaking? What language did Korra know that made no sound? 

This was something she’d never been faced with, Korra hid her sex life and sexuality, and to be honest, Asami had never noticed. Now that she’d let slip something so personal, she should be grateful she could finally share, but the bride felt something else entirely, and her mind was stuck, just a little, on the what.

Korra could draw a crowd if she wanted, she was magnetic and infectious and just so fun when she wanted to be. It made the Asami smile to think about. 

Perhaps it was dancing, close quarters on a lit up floor, something that just happened naturally, the right song, the right touch. At what point would she start kissing her neck? Running her fingers through her hair? What noises would she then make? Where would her hands be? Where would it all be leading to?

“Babe?” 

Asami flinched, ripping her hands from herself, opening her eyes. _What the hell?_ The image of her best friend kissing an amalgam of mystery women burned bright even in her wake. _It’s just because it’s new,_ she told herself, _a lot to take in and new._

“Yeah?” she tried to keep the quiver from her voice. 

“I’m gonna order room service?”

“Sure, I’ll have what you're having.” she tacked on breathlessly.

“You okay?”

“Mmhmm!” she fiddledwith the taps and changed the temperature, “Gonna rinse off!” 

_It was nothing, it was just my mind trying to figure it all out._ Asami dared to close her eyes once more, _My mysterious best friend._ Once again she saw that half smile, taunting her.

_ You don't know me, and you never will. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs for Chapter 2 - 2/2  
> i wanna be your girlfriend - girl in red


	3. Waves - Chloe Moriondo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song 1/2  
> Waves - Chloe Moriondo

_“ Korra…Hey,_

_Iroh’s asleep, but you probably guessed that. It’s four am here, so it’s… midnight where you are, which means you’re asleep probably, or out, I don’t know….I don’t know why I’m calling._

_Actually I do I had a nightmare and you were in it._

_I just, I needed to hear your voice,…but I guess, I’ll settle for hearing your voice in the machine, and pretending to talk to you…_

_It was here, on the island, the nightmare, but you were here, and the volcano just burned everything and you were in the middle of it and I- there was so much fire and…and I couldn’t revive you and then suddenly I was awake I was sitting up and before I knew it - I had already dialled your number…_

_This is stupid… I’m sorry…I… I’ve been feeling distant from you…Maybe it’s me, I haven’t been a good enough friend. All this time you had all this happening and I haven’t noticed. It’s not good enough I know. I’ve been lazy, I’ve been… switched off. I need to be better for you Korra…I will be better._

_This is ridiculous isn’t it?_

_I’m just…tired. I’ll call you later, to apologise for this embarrassing message. Maybe do me a favour and burn the tape okay?_

_Night K, or I guess, good morning… Bye.”_

Asami played the message she’d left Korra in her mind for hours after she’d left it. 

As she lay on the beach, eyes closed, sun warming skin, hands knotted in sand as she listened to the memory of heightened panic. The nightmare had left her petrified, shaken to the core, as visceral as it felt real, but the call it stayed with her. In the absence of her best friend she couldn’t describe enough the intense loneliness that had settled upon her soul. She couldn’t begin to explain it. 

Her husband was right beside her, and by all accounts should be the perfect candidate to soothe her soul in the wake of a bad dream, but before she had a waking mind her sleeping one reached out for the handset on bedside. She could barely register the tears licking her cheeks, but in the same moment, she still had the instinct to dial a ten digit number, after, of course, pressing the star key to dial out.

She tried to listen to the waves, but the thought of Korra’s sea blue eyes captivated her, causing her stomach to make an anxious dip. Korra had always worried her. Korra had always fascinated her. Lately all that worry and fascination had been amplified, but Asami couldn’t pinpoint why exactly. 

“Sex on the beach?” 

She’s shocked out of her reverie by her husband, holding a cocktail in her direction. Her eyes adjusting she caught the corners of his body turned pink by the sun. Smiling, sunburnt and squatting in the sand.

“Thanks,” she took the cool drink and sipped it meekly, caught in her thoughts, hoping one look into his eyes wouldn’t betray them. 

“You still feeling tired?” 

Asami only pursed her lips and nodded, grateful he couldn’t read her. 

Day five of her honeymoon, and she watched her husband truly relax, he’d been working long and hard, day in day out, and now he was melting in the summer sun. This was their time to stop, to enjoy each other, but all Asami could think about was what she had left behind, and the haunted look on Korra’s face when she saw her last. 

_The Ocean is right there,_ she berated herself, _love it dammit._

“I think I need to wake myself up,” she spoke her intentions aloud, inciting them to become her only truth. She got on her feet and marched for the blue, _don’t think about them,_ her feet touched the surf and a surprising chill thrilled her, _don’t think about those eyes,_ she kept walking until the water level passed her hips. She dared to look back to her husband on the shore, certain he would be looking. 

Instead his head was turned at an uncomfortable angle, up and left facing a portion of the sky the Carmaker had not yet noticed. 

“Asami!” his voice was harsh and direct, switching from calm to crisis mode. 

The chill gripped her, her body turning numb as she followed his gaze and watched her nightmare unfold to a tee. The mountain on the horizon belching unmistakable red fire and spewing a river of hot lava.

The tourists on the beach stopped and stared for a moment, half-hoping this was a performance or a practical joke of some kind. A light show that would end soon enough, and they could go back to enjoying their holidays.

_“Get out of the Water!_ ” Iroh yelled again. 

She couldn’t move, in the moment as her fears and future collided, she couldn’t think. The next thing she felt was Iroh’s hand around her own, his guiding hand on her back, being led briskly into the hotel, towel thrown over her. 

Iroh was speaking, barking orders over the cacophony of panicked guests to a hotel representative, who had never dealt with such an event in her short lifetime. Petrified, the girl had a hard time understanding what the General was saying, Asami felt for her and placed a calming hand on her forearm.

“Mang,” she read her name tag, “People are still out there right?” Asami asked her gently, “We can help, okay? My husband is a general, he can call air support from the main land, we just need some information okay?”

“We need a list of all the tours where they’re going to give to the response teams, and the staff need to cordon off-“ Iroh insisted until Asami shot him a look, 

“Are there files on the front desk?”

“It’s on the computer in the office,” Mang began entirely unsure if she herself had fallen into a nightmare.

“Take us there,”

****

Asami never realised what a privilege it was, to have never seen her husband at work. In the office he kept a phone to each ear, calling bases, rallying forces, pouring over maps and timetables.

Asami mused watching him, that this was why she had chosen him, a safe calm harbour in a sea of chaos, a functional Goliath, an irrefutably good man, on paper at least. 

She was swayed out of her reverie by his guiding hand on her arm.

“Asami, you should go,”

“What?”

“When help arrives, I’m going with them, there’s safe houses on the north side of the island, a lot of the guests are already there.”

“I can help,”

“You’re trained to operate in flight missions?” Iroh smirked gently rubbing her arm.

“I’m trained to have eyes and look out of a window.” Asami shot back, thoroughly unimpressed with being patronised. 

“This isn’t our honeymoon anymore, this is my job,” he kissed her forehead, “I need you to promise me you’ll keep safe. I’ll do the same.” 

“Okay,” it tasted bitter to say the word, it was only later, in the long car ride to the opposite side of the island did she figure out why. They weren’t partners, not in this.

As she mused on the notion of becoming a kept woman, the car pulled to a stop. A crowd had gathered outside the side of a house, she caught the sight of a tall, grey haired woman, handing out drinks and smiling at the customers in earnest. All of whom couldn’t keep from stealing glances at the smoke belching from the mountain in the distance. 

“Another one!” Asami heard the voice and her heart skipped as sea blue eyes caught her. _It couldn’t be. Don’t be ridiculous._ There was something of Korra in the woman walking toward her. She was Water Tribe of course, but her aura, brash, brave and soothing hit Asami like a freight train, reminding her of all she missed. 

_It’s been five days get it together._

“You really just came with the clothes on your back didn’t you?” she even had a grin that could lift spirits like her, “Jinora honey, go grab one of the spare shirts from the cupboard.” she caught the attention of a teenager clutching a book she was too anxious to read. 

“Who is this pretty mermaid?” Asami nearly jumped out of her towel when she noticed the small grey eyed boy staring up at her mesmerised.

“My name is Asami,” the heiress omitted her surname as she always did, the Sato name didn’t exactly inspire empathy in recent years. Still the child seemed in awe of her. 

“Meelo is at your service your lady-ship!” the boy bowed low and the women around him shared perplexed looks. 

“Right…I’m Kya,” the older woman reached out to shake her hand, Asami took it, pointed out the taller woman holding drinks, “That’s my partner Kana, she’s giving out drinks, but don’t be afraid to ask us anything else, and…I don’t see Kuvira, but perhaps that’s for the best, tourists tend to…aggravate her,”

“That’s very kind of you,” Jinora had returned and placed clothes in her hands, even managing a comforting smile of her own that moved herto her core from someone so young, “I mean I can lend a hand,”

“ _Oh_ ,” Kya balked, there were almost a hundred guests here, not one had offered to help, “I think we’re gonna like you!” 

Kya ushered the Carmaker to the kitchen, a small crowd already gathered, but it became clear from cheek kisses and hugs that ensued that this was Kya’s family.

“A volunteer!” Kya presented her happily, Asami blushed and waved, glad she’d pulled on the ‘ _Ember Island is for Lovers_ ’ shirt before entering this room full of strangers in a wet bikini. 

She took a place at the table, adorned with fruits, breads, salad and deli meats, all being reassembled to feed the growing crowd. 

“What a day you must be having,” said a woman balancing a rowdy toddler on her knee, “Pema,” she bounced the boy, “Rohan,” 

“When they say honeymoons are unforgettable, I don’t think they meant like this,” Asami shrugged, before giving her name as well. 

Intense worry passed over the mother’s face.

“Oh he’s fine, he’s working with the Army,” 

Pema let out the breath she held. 

“Well, helping others is the first step to helping yourself, I think we forgot the butter can you check the fridge,” 

As Asami did as she was told, she felt strange for a number of reasons, firstly she’d just witnessed a volcano explode, secondly her new husband had taken upon himself the safety of the island and promptly left her alone, and thirdly she had been swept into something so utterly unfamiliar, a family home, a creche of strangers so welcoming it had her on the verge of tears quite inexplicably. 

A fourth punched her in the chest, now she definitely knew _those_ eyes, smiling out at her from a photograph taped to the fridge door. Perhaps a decade old, colours faded only slightly, was a milk-toothed, slanted Korra grin, holding up a medal and clutching a surfboard. 

“See someone you know?” Kya was caught where she was looking in passing, placing an empty punch bowl in the sink beside her. Asami’s mouth flapped in disbelief, mining memories and obsessing over every detail. Korra had never mentioned coming to these islands before, never mentioned she was a junior surfing champion.

“It can’t be, I mean Korra never said she came here…”

“Wait, you _are_ Korra’s Asami,” 

“She told you about me?”

“Only for those last four summers after she met you, she never shut up about you, except the one she spent one with your family and well, you know the rest.” 

“I didn’t know she came here,”

“Korra doesn’t really talk about herself does she,” she could tell by Kya’s sad smile that she missed the girl in the photo. “The competitions used to mean so much to her…you tell her when you see her next, well, we miss her.” 

“I will,” Asami whispered stunned, still reeling. 

“Maybe, if this whole volcano thing hasn’t put you off, you can convince her to come back. A couples trip, is she with any one special?”

“I…don’t think so,” Asami stopped for a moment, considering, connecting dots, “Do you…you and Kana, are you two business partners?”

“We’re lawyers.” Kya smirked, tongue firmly in cheek, “ _We’re together,_ Korra already told me, way back when, well, we figured it out. You know if you ever plan on setting her up, I think Kuvira here is her type.”

“ _No_ ,” Asami balked, “I mean, she would hate that.” to hide her face she ripped open the fridge in search of butter, “you probably know how stubborn she is.”

“That I do,” Kya paused before saying it, thoroughly inspecting the newlywed as she cradled the cold dairy product in her hands. “Any friend of Korra’s if a friend of ours, we have spare beds upstairs, if you guys aren’t in a hurry after this, stay, we’ll look after you.”

“Oh I can’t,”

“I insist,” Kya rubbed her arms, and before Asami knew it she was encapsulated in a genuine hug. Asami couldn’t help but bend into it, exhausted from just her thoughts running wild alone.

“This is such a strange day,” she whispered, to which Kya could only laugh and rub between her shoulder blades. 

Helping others seemed to work a treat, it definitely occupied her mind enough from the confusion and swathes of guilt. 

As the evacuees were taken to empty beds elsewhere, Asami made small talk with those left at Kya’s bar. She desperately tried to talk about any thing else other than Korra, but reminder’s of her were on every wall, in this house seemingly made from the interlocking frames of thousands of photographs. 

Iroh found her in the evening, exhausted, dirty but overall satisfied with a job well done. He brought soldiers with him, happy to partake in a drink and share in their own quiet glory. When the general saw his wife, in two bold steps he crossed the stage towards her and pulled her bodily into his chest. 

Beneath the scent of soot was the smell of her husband, she tried to let it soothe her as he held on tight. She couldn’t shake the fact that the nightmare had come true. She couldn’t help but compare the photos she had seen with their real world counterparts. 

She particularly liked the one of twelve year old Korra, sat at the bar eating a sandwich, her hair in those old three pony’s. Her grin so wide her dimples could be seen. It had been so long since Asami had seen those dimples. 

Success had her husband as happy as the day they’d married, he wanted to dance with her, he wanted to kiss her, but Asami couldn’t relax.

“You alright?” finally he asked. Asami only looked at her glass, before shaking her head. “Hey it’s alright, it’s been crazy but, after all this I may be looking at a promotion to General of Armies…” 

How could Asami explain to him how deeply unsettled she was? Not when this opportunity had fallen in his lap, and he’d knocked it out of the park. The smoke in half the sky hung over her heavy and dark, and the more Asami thought about it, the more her throat grew tight and her psyche screamed _omen._

“We can stay on this side, we can salvage this-”

_“I want to go home,”_ the words jumped out her mouth before her mind could stop them. Iroh stiffened, sobering, listening intently, “I had a nightmare this would happen and it sounds crazy but I just don’t feel safe…can we…can we try again some where else? After…after some time?”

“You had a nightmare and you didn’t tell me,”

“ _Iroh_ ,” 

She watched as a litany of thoughts crossed his visage, his jaw set, his wheels turning. 

“Of course,” he breathed, “of course we can leave, tomorrow, I’ll sort out a flight.”

Asami hugged him gratefully, perched awkwardly on the edge of her stool, before stepping away. 

“I’m going to bed now,”

“Okay,” Iroh rubbed her arms. “I love you,” he told her, squeezing her arms. 

Asami tried to put the blue eyes that kept flashing out of her mind. _Omen._

“I love you too,” 

When she woke some hours later, Iroh’s sleeping shoulder pinned her own, his heavy arm across her waist, his warm huffing breaths swatted her cheek. She didn’t realise Kya was offering twin beds when she agreed, and sleeping with the big lug in such a tight space became stifling. Carefully she extricated herself. Apologising, stroking his sleeping cheek before settling in the spare bed beside his.

*****

The first thing she noticed when she stepped over the threshold of their apartment was the lack of photos. Kya and Kana had spent a lifetime of happiness together, and it showed in every inch of their home. Back in Republic City, Asami saw her own place with new eyes, open eyes, there was so much empty space, waiting to be filled. 

Iroh pulled packed bags into their room and Asami waited. She waited to feel normal and safe and calm. She was still waiting when the phone rang. 

“You’re _alive_!” crowed her assistant on the other end.

“Too soon Opal, too soon,” Asami shook her head, “Have you seen Korra?”

“I- not since the wedding, she’s been working I think, among other things…that’s not why I called, your lawyer dropped something off, asked me to make sure you’d got it as soon as.”

“I don’t have a lawyer, Future Industries have a team of patent lawyers but I-”

“He’s your mom’s lawyer …’Sami,”

“Oh,” 

“I posted it in your door last night.”

“Oh,”

“Are you okay?” 

Asami was far from okay. She’d long since developed an armour that kept the despair she felt when she thought of her own parents in a neat sealed little box. The armour allowed her to pass day by day, unchanged through the years. It served her well, it kept her safe, relatively unfeeling, but safe. As of late her psyche was cracking. 

“Yeah, what does it look like?” she turned towards the stack on the floor by the door. 

“Manila,” 

Asami pulled the yellow envelope out of the pile, feeling the small bump and hearing the clink of metal. with one hand she opened the top, and the other she poured the contents on the coffee table. 

Keys clattered on glass, Asami recognised them instantly. She saw the writing as clear as day, on pink and white embossed card, in her mother's hand. 

_It’s time my darling._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song 2/2  
> Hometowns - Band of Skulls


	4. Wild Wild Woman - Your Smith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1st song - Wild Wild Woman - Your Smith

A morning such as this required coffee, and something greasy, or fruit, mountains and mountains of fruit, Korra couldn’t quite decide. Cheek to sofa cushion, she opened bleary blues to the headache of a lifetime. 

While at that moment she couldn’t currently remember what exactly she’d done the night before, evidence suggested she’d stumbled her way back early this morning, making it no further than the call of blankets and leather and passing out on her couch. 

Slowly she pieced it all together, the night beginning the way headaches like this always did, sitting alone at home, unable to stop obsessing over what her best friend was doing. It was a pattern in her brain that she couldn’t seem to break out of. 

After all, old, old, _old,_ habits die hard. 

Soon enough she decided to embark on a solo venture to the bars around town, and it culminated as it usually did; in the crowded dark and pounding light, kissing a different woman. 

The banging on her door felt like steel nails being hammered into her brain. 

She stood and caught herself mid stumble, finding it easier to keep her eyes closed and feel her way to the door. 

Opal barged in. 

“Why haven’t you been picking up?” she seethed. 

Korra sucked in a breath, more to keep the room from spinning than to achieve any kind of rebuttal. Instead she made her way to the kitchen, grasping a glass she was pretty sure may have still had vodka in it, filling it with ice and then life giving water. 

She drank it down, letting the liquid freeze her twisting insides. 

“Have you been drinking?” Opal inspected Korra dishevelled and disgruntled, holding the glass to cool her forehead.

“Among other things.” she exhaled simply, her mind being dragged into the present finally.

It was an answer to which Opal could only ever respond with an exorbitant eye-roll. Which led her to her next conclusion.

“You unplugged your phone?” 

“It kept _ringing_ ,” Korra recalled. 

“Jesus, _Korra,_ last night of all nights,”

“What about last night? Am I missing something? Did I book an appointment with you to be yelled at this morning?” 

Opal could have informed her it was deep into the afternoon by this point, she could have filled her in with the details of her own panic and terror in a calculated, gentle way; that of a caring friend whose patience hadn’t been worn paper thin.

Instead she grabbed the remote and turned on the news. 

Korra watched without listening at first, her brain hadn’t the capacity to do both at that time. She could see a mountain on fire, beaches of escaping tourists, the smoke, and ash that once upon a time would taunt her nightmares on her old vacations. 

It took too many seconds to put the images together, and in the understanding, drop and shatter the glass between her fingers.

“She’s fine.” Opal relieved her of the terror for but a moment. It triggered something in the Korra's chest, and her breathing stayed erratic and pained. Opal’s hands met her folded arms, encouraging her to look into her pale green eyes. “She’s _home_ ,” She assured her.

It didn’t seem to matter to Korra’s body that for the most part, everything was okay, her muscles had seized, her mind was now completely blocked with anything that wasn’t memories of her best friend, the best friend she’d almost lost. The best friend who wasn’t her best friend at all. Not in the way her body went cold and soul silent at the very thought of losing her. 

“I’m going to see her now, do you want me to drive you?”

The reality of their previous situation returned to Korra then, sharp and stinging. She closed her eyes again, to keep the truth of it bleeding out.

“No…it’s okay,”

“Korra…she’s worried about you, she couldn’t get a hold of you, she left messages. She’s worried that you’re mad at her-”

“You know I’m not.”

Opal watched as Korra became still, eerily so. It was a defence mechanism she had mastered over the years, particularly when things got too much, it wasn’t so much to force her nerves to be calm, but to try her best to stop existing. There were no problems if you didn’t exist, at least for a little while. Ordinarily no-one noticed. 

Korra had more reasons than most to fall silent of late. 

Opal stepped back and took her in, the room she was standing in, the glasses unwashed by the sink, the mussed blankets on the couch, the clothes Korra wore, the morning after the night before. 

“You have to tell her Korra,”

When she finally opened her eyes, Opal saw once again that wounded gaze. Korra shook her head.

“You need to deal with this, you're destroying yourself.”

“I…” Korra began and stopped herself, if only to find the words that wouldn’t send alarm bells ringing in a sympathetic and rational person, “am no stranger to this…I know it seems like I’m struggling; I’m doing my best, but make no mistake, it is _mine_.”

Her gaze was sober now, and one of conviction. She would defend her useless bleeding heart until it was the only thing left of her. Despite the pain loving Asami caused her, she never wished it away, in fact she was quite possessive. This was a small candle she defended against a sea of troubles, her life would be infinitely easier if she didn’t bear the burden, but she knew how dark it would be.

“I have to let go before I…” again she struggled with the words, _confess,_ didn’t seem right, especially if it was where she hoped to be, or rather, never to be.

Nimble fingers pried gently at her own clasping over her heart. Korra hadn’t realised she’d placed it there until Opal’s hand knotted with her own.

“It’s okay,” the Assistant assured her, “I’ll be here then,” her free hand reached over her shoulders and tugged her in for a tense, necessary embrace. Korra wouldn’t give herself to it, and Opal didn’t expect her to.

*****

“No Korra?” Asami asked, almost on the second the her front door was fully open to Opal.

“She, uh, went out last night,” Opal pursed her lips, studying her boss/friend, the anxiety that seemed to grow in her gaze, “She’s not in a state to read _any_ documents,”

“Oh… was she with anyone?”

“No, why?”

“No reason, just last time she went out she was with people. When have you ever known Korra to go out without people?” Asami lied when she knew the real answer was _a lot,_ and _recently._

Opal shrugged, omitting the same lie. They fell into a silence, Opal took the chance to scan the apartment, aside from the coffee table covered in papers, the place was as pristine as ever.

“You feeling okay boss?” 

“Hmm?”

“You know after the whole, volcano blowing up your honeymoon thing? Where _is_ Iroh anyway?”

“Oh he got called in,” Asami waved a hand nonchalantly, “It actually worked out great for him he’s probably looking at a promotion.” she flashed a bemused smile before turning to the task at hand.

“So,” Opal began, again choosing her words tactfully, “what exactly did your mom leave you?”

“As far as I can make out it’s a sleeping will,” 

“A what?” 

Asami pulled a document from the top of the pile. In her anxious wait for her friends, she’d already done much of the digging and translating of legalese herself. The deeper the tunnelled into it, so too did the burrowing, gnawing, pit beneath her solar plexus.

“I kind of knew my mother owned the house we lived in, but after my father’s court case I just assumed it got caught up with all the other assets seized and lost to bidding wars. This will protected it from us, and by us I mean Hiroshi, losing it before it could be passed to me. Except, it’s intergenerational, this sleeping will was drawn up by my mother’s mother in the forties, and at that time a woman couldn’t come into her inheritance until she married so…”

“The house was only owned until you or your mother wed?”

“I guess, I don’t know I guess my mom didn’t have time to change it between the chemo,”

“Maybe she was hoping she wouldn’t have to,” 

At that Asami’s eyes turned glassy and cold, turning down to look at the clink of keys in her own left hand, turning the metal, tasting the iron bitter in her mouth.

“I haven’t been back since the funeral,” In her mind she was there, white bow in black hair, breathlessly clinging to her rock of a best friend, crushing her hand, sobbing into her collar.“I was hoping to have her with me when I went back,” Asami admitted aloud.

Opal regarded her, the immovable object, and couldn’t help but think of Korra, the entropic force. 

“Go get a jacket,” she instructed, “It’s cold out.” she explained when Asami gave her a puzzled look.

Opal waited until she was out of earshot before picking up the phone and dialling a number she’d come to know all too well.

“Oh good, you reconnected your phone! I know you’re going through something but I underestimated the situation, just, if you get this message and are sober enough, meet us at the old Sato place… Everything aside I just think she needs you to be, well, you… Bye.”

_That was the right thing to do right?_ Opal thought to herself watching Asami pace, pushing her arms through her sleeves and give her a weak watery smile. 

****

They pulled into the long driveway of a grand old building. Large but not imposing, and once upon a time, the heiress could’ve looked upon it and known it was her home. Such a feeling was foreign to her now. 

Someone had been maintaining the topiary at the border, and mowing the lawns, but little else spelled that this house had inhabitants. It looked as Asami remembered it, if only less saturated after just under a decade. 

She passed the large oak out front her fingers ghosting over the bark. Shuddering as the residual memories embalmed her. 

“Are you sure you want to do this now?” Opal asked. 

_No,_ was her immediate response, _not without her._ Swarmed by the memories, by her parents, by her friend keeping her company in the looming hollow house, of sleepovers, pillow forts and just being happy. Korra’s easy smile warming it’s hearth, distracting her from everything bad that was happening. A bond forging as Korra held her weeping through those last nights here.

Asami felt a prickle down on her neck and wrenched herself from that energy, nodding, forcing her mind back to task.

“Let’s do it,” she urged, unfurling the keys from her pocket, tangling them in the lock.

The door yawned into an empty house. Rooms dressed as though they were ghosts. Blankets covered furniture, covered walls, covered history. 

Asami stalked the empty halls, her companion dutifully trailing behind her, trying not to disturb the fragile memories they were pressed against. 

Eventually they meandered to separate corners of the living room. 

Asami gravitated to the deepest, darkest wall. Back in the day it was where Hiroshi proudly drew the eyes of his guests when hosting dinner parties, business deals, and undoubtedly nefarious misdeeds. 

On this day, it was covered by a large white sheet, hanging a foot or so from the ceiling, and finishing a metre or so from the ground. 

“What you got there ‘Sami?” Opal probed as the silence drew long, and somewhat painful.

Asami couldn’t answer, and it was only after she pulled the sheet did her companion realise why. 

The Sato Family, Hiroshi, Yasuko and Asami, immortalised in oil on canvas. The young heiress was dressed in frills and finery, her little emerald eyes still shining, a happy child, a happy marriage, to last only in portrait form.

“ _Pretentious_.” She muttered quietly, before marching for the door, heels clipping hardwood harshly, intending to flee, to never return. At least that what she hoped. What stopped her could only have been shapes in a flash, but something about the colours, or perhaps a smile within them stuck her feet to the ground. 

Opal watched as she turned slowly, possessed and seemingly unsure of her actions.  Drawn to where photographs still stood proud, if a little dusty on the mantle. 

Hiroshi kneeled in cargo shorts, looking unassuming and even sweet, with his arm around his wife and daughter. Asami's own arms were tangled around Korra’s nimble shoulders. Through the layer of dust she saw four smiles, innocent and even. 

The pomp and circumstance faded away on that family hiking trip. Asami had attributed it to Korra being there, Korra knew how to have fun and on that trip she showed the Carmaker’s parents the way. It was the calm before the many, _many,_ storms.

In her head she couldn’t help but follow their paths through the years, the lights that turned dark, and her mother’s, that extinguished.

Before she knew it the tears were leaking again, streaming down her cheeks, turning the dust on the glass into mud.

“Asami-”

“It’s _okay_ ,” she lied. “I’m okay,” she lied again. “ _I can’t breathe_ ,” that part was true. 

Storming out of this house was a muscle memory she fell back into effortlessly. 

When Louboutin’s hit gravel and she lost her balance. She twisted and cradled the photo she was still clutching to her chest. Closing her eyes, she hoped for the best.

“ _Whoa!_ ”

Three coffees were whipped on the ground as strong hands clutched her arms and kept her upright. 

Asami came face to face with the girl in the photo, blue eyes shaded by octagonal mirrored shades she may or may not have stolen from Asami years ago.

“Oh,” Asami balked, looking down at the frothy drinks she’d destroyed into the dirt, “I’m sorry,”

“It’s ok they were all for me anyway,” Korra joked, looking down at them glumly. “ _God I needed them.”_ she muttered mournfully under her breath, pouting. 

When Asami took her in, logically she knew she should be mad, that her best friend had ignored her, given her the silent treatment, lied by omission about the pseudo family on an island she had once lived a second life on, but it was the heiress’ emotions had control of her body then, and her arms pulled Korra into place. 

The Ice Sculptor didn’t say anything, as the Carmaker clung to her, eyes finding home in her throat once again, inhaling deeply, fighting back sobs, fingers clutching Korra’s jacket.

What strength Korra had left was put into holding her steady, on palming steady soothing circles between her shoulder blades, on keeping her feet planted in the grit and gravel so they wouldn’t fall. 

“ _I’ve got you,”_ she told her, and despite her stupid crumbling heart she meant it in every sense. Asami could only tighten her grip at that.

_“Where were you?”_ Asami urged, warm breath huffing into her skin. Korra fell silent at the question, searching for a statement that wouldn’t reveal her hand.

“I’m here now,” was her response. 

Asami noted the cacophony of unsaid thoughts emanating from her best friend then, spying yet another clue in this mystery that she added to her now vast collection. The time would soon come where the engineer could present her findings back to her, and demand the truth, but for now she simply folded the corner of the page for later perusal, and let Korra’s hands soothe her. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she continued, somewhat awkwardly, after Asami unlatched herself, and Korra sheepishly returned hands to pockets. 

Like that Asami was reminded of the hell-scape she’d escaped from less than a day ago. She remembered the nightmare that preceded it, and the embarrassing voicemail she’d obsessed over whilst her honeymoon was still technically viable.

“Did you get my message?” she was both enthralled and afraid of the answer.

“I…uh, haven’t really been checking them, I only got Opal’s because I was near the machine so-“

“ _Delete it,”_ it was a knee jerk reaction, primarily designed to save face, whilst wiping residual tears from her own _,_ “I left a stupid… drunk call, you don’t need to hear me…rambling,”

“Oh,”

“It’s hardly worth listening to, I’d just appreciate it if-”

“You made it!” Opal interrupted from the doorway, relieved she wasn’t the only one to act as Asami’s back up.

“I did! I got coffee!” Korra called back, just as relieved to not be left alone with Asami and her own giant wall of inevitable imposing feelings, “…it spilled.”

Asami pursed her lips, mirroring Korra, crossing her arms and averting her eyes. 

“I assume by the force you ran into me you don’t want to go back inside?” Korra questioned quietly, reaching out but stopping her hand just shy of her arm. “Can I see?”

Korra didn’t mean the house, but the photo. Asami couldn’t explain why in that moment she was so protective of it, but it was with reluctance she handed it over.

“I remember this trip.” Korra lifted her shades to get a proper look. “The summer at the Banyan Grove Tree,” Korra thumbed the dust off their grinning faces, “you’d just gotten your braces off,”

“I finally had a smile as good as yours.” Asami tapped into the pride she’d once had, how much she smiled on that trip. How she would never smile as much thereafter. She turned on her heel toward the house and proceeded to lock the door.

“I can’t believe your parents put up with me,” Korra mused as she watched her habitually, knowing she was swiping at tears beside the bridge of her nose, even if her back was to her, “I was such a wild thing,” 

The last words gave her lips a bitter twist. Hiroshi called her that when he thought she couldn’t hear. It shouldn’t after all these years, given the man, but still it stung. 

“You were what we needed,” Asami whispered, turning back, smiling sadly, “me especially,”

Korra didn’t know how to respond, her lips were trying to smile back, but she was sure she only accomplished a weak grimace. With her sleeve she wiped the rest of the picture clean, and handed it back. 

“Where’s your car?” Opal asked after yet another loaded silence.

“I took a cab here…I literally cannot see straight.” Korra shrugged.

“Get in the back,” Opal nudged her fondly as she passed, and Korra stole another glance at Asami, looking lost and forlorn at her own home, thumbing the one good memory she could liberate.

“You okay back there, _Weekend at Bernies?”_ Opal asked as she drove perhaps too fast over speed bumps.

_“Get bent,”_ Korra seethed. Asami smirked at her best friend despite herself. She could still feel the wrong between them, but this was neither the time nor place, not when she needed her.

Asami considered for a moment that she should tease her too, for all the worry she caused. In her head she asked what she got up to the night before, but automatically the only add on she could think of was simple _blonde_ or _brunette,_ or god forbid _redhead._

_No,_ she thought, _Korra told me this in confidence, that’ll close her up for good._ In the mirror she watched her, still and indeed corpse like on the back seat, only taking deep breaths when Opal turned too sharp a corner. _There’s still more I need to know._

_“How was it?”_ Korra’s husky hungover voice pulled her away from her thoughts, and even though it was a question most expected, for some reason it was surprising coming from Korra. 

“It was nice,” Asami answered, instinctively keeping it light and short, “it was… a lot of sunshine, and calm, massages and just…nice, and then,” Asami remembered the dream, the nightmare, the way she couldn’t take her mind off of the woman in the back seat for longer than twenty minutes, “and then it ended. Abruptly.” 

It wasn’t the content of Asami’s statement that perturbed Korra in that moment, but the lack thereof. It was a punishing level of silence, that had Korra’s anxiety rocketing through her head.

“And the house?” 

“It’s just how we left it remember?”

“Oh,”

“Yeah,” Asami mused quietly, “Oh,”

“What do you want to do about it?” Opal asked, attempting to steer the conversation to a proactive destination.

“I want to forget,” Asami responded honestly, “It’s like I can’t deal with it right now, it’s all just so heavy so fast and I can’t-“

“Sounds like you need a drink,” Opal teased, desperately attempting to lighten the mood.

Both sets of green eyes focused on the brunette in the back.

“Kay, you know a place?”

*****

_Why am I doing this?_ Korra thought to herself, loudly so as to hear her own thoughts above the din of the bar, _Because I am a sucker for my best friend._

It had been hours since they’d left the Old Sato Mansion. The girls had to get ready of course, and in that time Korra’s nausea had subsided, leaving enough space for regret and anxiety to take its place. Especially as Asami delivered a tray of shots to their table. 

“I can’t,” Korra waved her hands, and shook her head, “Just looking at it,” she grimaced, “ _smelling it,”_ she added. 

Asami shrugged and necked the shot, Opal followed, as did Mako and Bolin. The gang was all back together, the gang that Korra could stand anyway. It was enough, Korra knew, to keep her mind away from her feelings if the conversation kept flowing, She’d be safe if she wasn’t left alone with those encompassing emerald eyes, in one of the many rooms across this city she had made copious mistakes.

“I wanna go dance!” Opal announced, already three drinks in, grabbing her boyfriend by his shirt, and Mako by his, before Korra could protest or cuss her out for turning on her so fast. She could feel the steam coming from her own ears as she watched them go. 

She dared not look at the siren sat beside her.

“Hey I just wanted to say thank you,” Asami’s lips were by here ear, she couldn’t measure as she vehemently insisted on keeping her gaze straight ahead, but she could feel her breath tickle her neck, “For today,” she continued, “You didn’t have to pull through like you did.”

“Of course I did,” Korra thumbed the water glass in front of her, nail tracing the droplets. “I’m sorry it’s not worked out like you planned.” 

“It really didn’t did it?” Asami watched her, skin turned pink in the neon and dark, muscles coiled in her proximity. “You’ve done so much for me… I mean that sculpture, I’m amazed how you did it, I’d love to know,”

“You paid me for that,” Korra reminded. “Besides, you know the whole thing with magicians and secrets,” she took a sip of her drink, her hands desperate for something to do. 

“It was beautiful,” Asami went on, eyes following raised hackles, up to a drop of escaped water on Korra’s lower lip, “We didn’t ever come in for a sitting, and you, had my likeness so well… You did it all from memory? I thought it was funny because you don’t have a good memory…”she watched a tongue dart out to catch the drop as Korra listened, “I mean you _forgot_ to tell me about Ember Island and Kya-”

“ _Asami_ ,” Korra meant it as a warning, but already in her voice she felt defeated.

“I mean why wouldn't you tell me you spent whole summers at my honeymoon destination?”

“It didn’t seem important,”

“Of course it’s important, Korra your _life_ , to me _,_ is _important_ ,”

“ _You never asked_.” for the first time ever Korra’s voice took on a harsh, warning tone. At the edge of her secret, desperate to protect it. Asami was taken aback by this, and studied her, as best she could in pounding music and boiling air.

_“I’m asking now._ ”

“Korra?” the voice filtered through the crowd and Korra was trapped like a deer in headlights. 

Asami could see her throat seizing, she knew her friend enough to see that she was blind sided, and wished she could evaporate into the ether as the interruption took place.

“ _Hey_ ,” Korra finally wheezed, nerves abound as she lifted her eyes to the stunning brunette with her fingers poised at their table. 

Asami couldn’t help but want to snap them like twigs.

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh I’m just - I’m here with some friends,” Korra tried not to sound as guilty as she felt. “This is my friend, Asami,”

Asami waved sheepishly, reigning back her indignant anger at being interrupted, to watch the two talk, or specifically, how their bodies changed in each other’s presence. A key had been struck by the encounter, a charge reverberated through the air, and like that Asami knew exactly _how_ Korra knew this gorgeous woman.

“Oh you _actually_ know this girl?” the temptress half-teased.

Korra flushed, and lips pursed. Thoroughly caught in the reflection of a reputation she hadn’t meant to make. 

“We were on a relaxing night out,” Asami quipped, feigning politeness, “did you need something?”

The woman was clearly confused by such a passive tone, with an overall aggressive quality to it. Asami couldn’t help herself, something about her presence rubbed her the wrong way.

“I need to talk to you,” the stranger pressed, turning completely to Korra. Twisting her hands before throwing a glance over her shoulder, “Can you meet me outside? _Please,_ ”

Korra’s eyebrows drew together and her mouth opened to respond only no sound was able to make an escape. 

“She can’t right now,” all the energy the Carmaker had put into interrogating her friend, had now been channelled into protecting her from this perceived threat. She took Korra’s hand from the table and standing led her to the floor. In her shock and inertia Korra followed without a word.

Internally Korra was recovering from a bomb going off between her ears, and they were still ringing until Asami gripped her hand possessively and started to lead her away. Her two worlds had collided quite unceremoniously, and when she was finally able to analyse these moments she stopped shy of being dragged away and looked at the woman with sympathy.

“Maybe later okay?” she told her. 

The woman pursed ruby red lips and nodded, before returning to her own friends elsewhere in the crowd. Korra expected to be led to the bar, where she could see the trio that had left them to dance getting more drinks, only Asami rounded on her, and more surprisingly, her gentle hands skimmed her shoulders to cross at the back of her neck.

“She’s still looking,” Asami explained.

“You don’t have to-”

“That’s what best friends do in a bar,” she smiled at her, and Korra’s pathetic little heart shot into overdrive at the sight mixed with the sensation of those long fingers mussing with the ends of her short locks, “save you from the creepy guy, _or girl,_ by pretending to be… an obstacle,”

“She’s not creepy,”

“I’ve literally never seen you more freaked out Korra,” Korra huffed, averting her eyes. Asami rolled hers, momentarily releasing an arm to guide Korra’s hand to her waist. From there she urged her to move to the beat of the song, luckily it was all bass and pulsing, easy enough to sway along with, and talk over, “Who was she?”

“Her name is June,”

“Who is she to you?” Asami pressed.

“You remember _Blank_?” 

Asami did remember the tale of Blank, the woman Korra slept with on her wedding night, for hours all told. Asami now had a face to place whenever she imagined the amalgam of mystery women. 

“So you got her name in the end.”

“It’s really not like this, I’m not…avoiding I just, it was sudden.”

“You like to keep things separate, I get it,” 

“You really don’t,” Korra said it with that same half smile that, honestly, drove Asami crazy. _You don’t know me and you never will._

“Help me to,” she urged. “I want to be a better friend to you,” 

“I know,” Korra pursed her lips, “Let me work on it, okay? Give me time,” 

It wasn’t exactly what she’d been hoping for, but it was a a start. At least Asami could be certain that Korra knew she wouldn’t let her slink away that easily, not when she was on the precipice of all those secrets.

“Okay,” Asami told her assuredly, absentmindedly scratching her hairline as though rewarding a puppy, she did notice however Korra straightening her back as a litany of tingles coursed their way through her body from those very fingertips. 

Eyes met, and for a moment Korra swore the music filtered away as her bravery just swelled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you about Kya and the island. It’s just, it was a happy time, I wasn’t happy for such a long time after and I never went back…I didn’t want to ruin the memory, or have them see me that way, and then it just felt like too late to ever go back or talk about. It’s hard to explain.” She shook her head and broke the spell that made this world their own. “It sounds so stupid saying it out loud.”

Instead of cooing, telling her that it certainly doesn’t sound stupid, Asami simply tugged her close into an embrace. 

The Sculptor heaved a sigh of relief, of something deeper, and Asami cradled her friend.

“ _Kya misses you_ ,” Asami soothed, her thumb tracing arcs over the crook of her neck, and finding the skin soft there. 

Once again Korra couldn’t respond, but she had the wherewithal to hold onto her friend, tighter. 

“We should probably dance or this is going to look super weird,” she finally said, and Asami laughed. 

They parted gently, Asami’s fingertips still gingerly tracing the arc of Korra’s elbow. Before either of them could even hear the song, two trunks of arms hooked Asami by her middle and lifted her bodily from the ground. 

“Hey babe!” Iroh crowed happily, placing a sloppy kiss to her cheek.

Asami turned into him, only to receive a dozen more, on and around her lips as he explained,

“We’ve been out since noon, to celebrate my pay bump and I saw your note!"  Asami had left a note on the fridge, not expecting anything of it, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Given they were just married and had just survived a natural disaster.  "This bar is cool. Hey Korra,” 

Asami mourned to see how her best friend's entire being had seized at the interruption.

“Hey,” she gave an odd three fingered wave, before signalling she was going out to smoke. 

Asami felt an internal pull to follow, but her husbands arms were stronger. 

Korra was shaking when she met the outside air. The bar door closing behind her, she waited until she could still her pounding heart, fumbling with the pack of cigarettes, half crushed from her back pocket.

Her ears were still ringing from the inside, her hangover still present from the night before. Gently she cracked her eyes open, and for a moment watched the exchange as though she herself wasn’t a part of it. June had her hands either side of a man’s arms. He was gesticulating wildly, and June looked half afraid, half annoyed. Before Korra could consider stepping in to help, their eyes met and Korra stood half frozen.

“Is this her?” said the man, June gripped his arms and tugged back, it was all the confirmation he needed. “ _You like fucking other people’s wives_?” was the last thing Korra heard before a hard punch in the nose and the crack of a door hitting the back of her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd song - Rebel Girl - Bikini Kill
> 
> All the songs so far -  
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1BI5rednf8BJfjC4TelqOn?si=GftitJG0RASN6jHZ0yxxyg


	5. Honey - Kehlani

Korra’s head slammed into wood and brick, and in the rebound she charged the heel of her hand into her attacker’s face. Incensed he went for a round house, meaty fist swinging wildly. 

Korra dodged, ducking under, sliding a guiding hand over his outer arm, exposing his ribs just enough so she could break them with a swift crack of her knee. 

He fell back wheezing, piggy little eyes opened wide, slumped against June’s shins. 

In her list of possible decisions, trying to relight the crumpled up cigarette she had been toting shouldn’t have been highest. With shaking fingers she cupped the end and her thumb couldn’t seem to light it. Her concussion had been instant, her nose was bleeding without intent to stop, her brow cut, with more blood blinding an eye that would soon begin to swell, and she had a massive headache forming at the back of her brick dusted cranium. Still all she needed at that moment was a drag.

The man on the ground gave one last kick at her feet, and as she went down she adjusted her priorities.

Korra punched him without finesse or technique, though it didn’t seem to matter, he wasn’t expecting someone of her size to be able to hit so hard the skin of her knuckles would start to split. 

It had been a while since Korra had felt truly weightless, an odd realisation as burly bouncers lifted her from the squirming man.

Her ears were still ringing, but she was sure they were telling her to take it easy. 

“ _Korra_ ,” 

Now released, and after an apparent time skip, she was stumbling away from the bar, flight instinct having finally kicked in. 

_Better late than never. Lighter than a feather. Stinging like a bee, stinging head, stinging heart._

She hadn’t quite achieved the capacity to think in coherent sentences as she marched. 

June gripped her shirt.

“ _You’ve done enough.”_ Korra plucked her hands from her, only to find that her palms and knuckles were slick with blood. She flexed them glistening in the lamp light to be sure. 

“ _You’re going the wrong way,_ ” June informed her to which Korra stopped and looked around indignantly at the empty unfamiliar street in which she had been walking. The bar was no longer in sight, and the words looked bizarre as though written in another language. 

“Where is your _husband_?” she seethed, taking reconnaissance of an area that was strangely lacking in people.

“I’m so sorry it got like this, and that he found out and I that didn’t say…It’s complicated. We’ve just been _growing apart_ for some time,” 

Korra showed her hands.

“ _He doesn’t seem to think so!”_

_“I tried to warn you,_ but your new _friend_ dragged you away from me,”

“She’s not new.” Korra told her, still scanning the horizon, her hopeless confused heart still hoping that one of her friends would have come looking for her. That the friend would be Asami. 

June’s eyes softened as she watched her.

“Let me take you home.”

_“I’m not falling for that again_ ,”

“You’re lost, you’re _hurt_. Let me just get you home safe, okay? Or to a hospital?”

Korra patted the back of her head, and sighed relieved there was no blood there. From her fighting days she remembered what a concussion felt like, that bloody noses always looked worse than they were, and that hands, once the bleeding stopped, simply needed wrapping. She needed ice, painkillers, bandages and bed rest, and perhaps enough make-up to cover up this mess. 

“Just home,” she breathed, her head lolling back as a cool breeze soothed her feverish skin. When she opened her eyes she could see the moon and stars, bright and dancing. A gentle hand folded into her own, and June began to guide her to a taxi.

They rode in silence, for the most part, Korra taking solace in a cool window to her temple, June watching her. Specifically watching if she was still breathing, and for a moment getting lost in the sight of soft skin exposed to the moonlight. 

“Is she what you’re going through?” 

“Hmm?” Korra feigned ignorance. 

“The… _tall one,”_ June pressed. 

Korra swallowed. 

“We’ve been best friends forever,” Korra’s voice was husky, and morose. 

“And you’ve been in love the whole time or just recently?”

“ _She’s married_ ,”

“So am I.” 

Korra opened her eyes finally.

“That’s different,”

June sat back in her seat, arms folded, smile coy, “She’s into you,”

“ _Stop_ ,” Korra warned. She couldn’t hear this, her heart couldn’t accept it. “Stop it,”

June chuckled, mirthless, tacking on with finality.

“Best friends don’t hold friends the way that she held you.”

Korra turned her eyes out the window. Jaw set, heart tight, desperately trying not relive it, and inevitably, failing.

***

Asami lay in bed, hands tucked under cheek, staring ahead. She looked the part of the sleeper, only her mind was running with no intent to stop.

Korra had left nights out before, without a word, on a whim, that was her way, Asami knew. She couldn’t help but feel unsettled by her leaving this time. If almost didn’t feel fair.

She’d always been satisfied going home with Iroh before, or at least to him if she went on a ‘crew’ night. Still she couldn’t help but long for those single days, sitting with her best friend on her bed, sharing idle chit chat until the liquor kicked in and she’d fall asleep, only to wake up alone, and find a very hungover Korra wincing from her aching bones on the couch. 

“ _That’s not for sleeping in,”_ Asami would say.

“ _You’re a blanket hog_ ,” Korra would retort back.

As she sifted through the memories, bits and pieces returned to her in total clarity like floating debris. 

She cast her mind further back to the hiking trip. They had marched all over that small mountain together, her parents trailing behind. 

Korra would find something fascinating in the roots and the moss and vines, and Asami would be led from place to place seeing it anew through her eyes. Fingers entangled as they stepped over treacherous terrain, staying that way even when they reached the plateau of the cliffs edge. 

Had they held hands before? Why was it so hard to recall? Why did her heart throb at the idea of it?

Gently she rose, lifting the picture from her bedside to inspect it. Korra smiled up at her, as did her younger self. For a second she felt it, reflected somewhere in the hollow space between her ribs.

_That’s what it used to feel like,_ an unhelpful, irritating voice told her matter-of-factly, _happiness._

_Oh._ The Carmaker’s thumb traced the brim of the frame.

“You still thinking about the house honey?” Iroh mumbled, turning his head in his pillow, refusing to open his eyes. “It’s okay - We can call the estate agent in the morning,” his words were coherent but his tone veered on babble. “Get it out and get on with our lives.”

“ _No,”_ Asami shook her head but he didn’t seem to stir, “I haven’t decided but I think I…need to fix it up first, go through it all…it feels important, for Mom.” 

In that moment she recognised the gift her mother had _actually_ left her, and she knew in that big old house there were more memories like this, and perhaps they would outweigh the bad. Perhaps they could even be rewritten.

“N’kay,” Iroh mumbled, before promptly falling back asleep.

***

“Hey boss!” Kai poked his head in the studio, “I brought pastries!,” he announced, before adding quietly, “ _so you can’t be mad I’m late…_ ”

For nought it seemed, Korra was nowhere in sight. 

“Uuh,” he pondered to himself, pulling headphones from his ears, before poking his head in the freezer, finding only the sculptures sitting in the dark, half-emerged ghosts in cocoons of ice. 

“It is Monday right?” again to himself, dropping his jacket at his bench. He climbed the stairs to the apartment, intending to knock, but finding the front door smeared with a palm of blood. His gut dropped. 

“ _Korra_?”

He hit the lights.

“Aaah! _Turn em off!_ ” 

He breathed a sigh of relief to find Korra in a blanket nest of her own design, clutching an icepack to her left eye, whilst the right peered at him. 

“…You okay boss?”

“I- yeah, sorry,”

Kai watched her for a minute, taking in her split knuckles, bruised cheek, and what was probably a black eye under the icepack.

“I brought pastry,” he offered, if only for something to say. 

Korra’s defensive demeanour softened, grateful for the lack of interrogation from her colleague, who she often forgot was just a sweet kid with a chequered past. 

“You know where the plates are.”

Kai hopped to her kitchen, opening the fridge. He prepared cooling croissants with a squirt of whipped cream lighting fast, and poured two glasses of the good orange juice Korra kept for hangovers. 

He set them down on her coffee table and took his own on the arm chair opposite. 

“Can I ask?”

Korra gave a deep, wide-eyed sigh, struggling to know where to begin.

“I was…seeing a woman,”

“Did she do this to you?”

“ _No,_ no, she, no,” 

“Well who did? Do we know them? Will they come here?” 

“Will you let me finish? _I was seeing a woman,”_ Korra repeated, “her husband had a problem with it.”

Kai paused, fingers prone over is food. 

“Didn’t you?” 

“I didn’t know she was married until he jumped me outside the bar,” Korra admitted. 

“Oh dang,”

“You _cannot_ tell anyone,” Korra told him matter of factly, “more importantly you can’t tell my friends. Not Opal, not Mako, Bolin, especially not Asami, got it?”

More than anything she dreaded Asami finding her this way, and after a rivalry in martial arts that spanned a decade, she could never face to the shame of being jumped in a bar by some stranger. Her old sparring partner would never let her hear the end of it.

Kai pursed his lips, only to nod. Once upon a time he had been a good thief, but not particularly a good liar.

“Did you win at least?”

Korra lifted a glass to her lips, lowering the ice pack and stretching out her eye.

“You should see the other guy,” she admitted with something of a proud half smile, remembering the crack of his ribs and stupid surprised face.

When they finished eating, Kai stood awkwardly at the doorway.

“I’m not coming to work today, obviously,” Korra threw him a smile to ease the worry that gripped him, “I’m going to take some painkillers, sleep it off.”

Kai looked lost at the idea of working without her, he was only an apprentice after all. 

“There’s not a lot on the docket, couple of swans, but you’re an ace at those. When you finish why don’t you work on your own stuff?” 

Kai lit up at the suggestion, nodding.

“Want me to bring you lunch later?”

“I will be unconscious.” Korra reminded, already taking herself, her cape and her pills towards her room.

“I’ll leave it in the fridge!” Kai yelled back, already making his way down the steps so she couldn’t protest.

****

Asami rather admired Korra’s shop. She’d adapted the firehouse herself, converted the garage into a sizeable freezer, painted hazardous red over with a calm cerulean blue. She worked below where she lived, built her life on her terms, and to Asami, she’d created an oasis that matched her aura. 

Visiting Korra’s home felt like coming into harbour. 

The lights were on, the front door open, but an eery silence came from inside. Korra worked to loud music, but while the wheels of the shop were clearly turning, Asami saw no sign of her friend.

She hadn’t heard anything from her since the bar almost a week ago. Asami was starting to worry. 

She paced into the workshop, around the machines hoping to find her working behind every corner. Finally she reached the fridge, the light was on but no-one was home, say for some ice swans, wings a loft and necks craned high. The engineer couldn’t help but admire the ingenuity in their sculpt, her eyes were drawn to the real masterpiece beside them, a notebook of exquisite sketches and plans on the bench, frost dusting the pages, cold enough so the water couldn’t blot the ink. 

Asami loved the language of blue prints, after all she was an engineer. Already her thumbs turned pages over, between instructions and plans and variant designs she began to notice Korra’s errant doodles. 

A snowflake, lips, eyes, stars, an apple, Asami, a fish, a bird, Asami… flowers, Asami, a tree, Asami. Asami. Asami.

For one second she thought about her wedding sculpture, Korra must’ve practiced, she must’ve drawn from photos. For the next, she remembered they didn’t bring a camera to the beach that day. Asami holding the crab, smiling down on it. Most were candid, from memory, though the memories seemed mundane and unimportant, at least on face value. 

Her fingers touched lead, an intense patch of errant scribble covering something Korra had drawn, and no longer wanted to see. It was small, roundish, and if Asami wanted she could turn the corner it was on and see the answer carved in the other side. Her thumb traced the shape beneath, a heart, she was sure of it, the initials inside, not so much.

“Ah!” Kai yelped behind her, clutching an ice bird that had slipped awkwardly at the sight of her.

Asami slammed the book shut, cheeks raging, feeling as though she’d been caught reading a diary. A dairy that should have been marked _danger, keep out!_

_“Hey,”_ she rushed, “I’m looking for Korra, I haven’t heard from her and I…Kai? You okay?”

Kai actually couldn’t hear her, music still blaring in the headphones he couldn’t take off, his face went slack as he struggled with what exactly to say.

“Kai? Where is she is she okay?”

“ _She told me not to tell you,_ ” 

“Tell me what?”

“ _Uh_ ,” Kai balked, pursing lips, puffing cheeks, waddling with the bird until he could rest it on its perch. “She’s fine, _she’s not well,_ but she’s fine,” he scratched and ruffled his hair. 

“The look on your face tells me otherwise.” Asami mused, watching his eyes bounce. “What is it? Can I go up?”

“No, I’ve got it, her, covered, she’s probably sleeping I’ve been bringing her lunch, I’m just about to,” 

“Great! I can can come with.” Asami was already on the move, and Kai had a problem catching up to her, her legs were so damned long, and the heels only made her stride longer. She’d snatched the lunch bag from the front desk. 

Kai intercepted her at Korra’s door.

“ _She told me_ -”

“-Not to tell me _Kai_ , you’re being ridiculous and so is _she_ ,”

“ _Just_ ,” Kai snapped, “wait here,” he snatched the bag, twisted the door knob and turned back to her, “sorry,” 

Asami folded her arms, conceding, she liked Kai, she had to remember that or she might throttle him.

Korra had drawn her, with care, with skill. _You know the whole thing with magicians and secrets._ Asami had uncovered another one of Korra’s secrets. As she waited the haunting half smile held her.

_“Oh shit,_ ” she heard Kai cuss, that was her queue. 

Korra was on the floor of her kitchen, sitting, leaning against the cabinet, half asleep, cradling a glass of water.

She laughed seeing Kai, before closing her eyes at the nausea she felt. 

“Okay,” Kai had her arm over her shoulder, and she leaned into him. Asami watched speechless, she saw her bruised nose and face, the cut brow, the dark eye. Korra didn’t even seem to notice she was even there. 

Asami reached to carry her too, but Kai stopped her with a look.

“I got her.”

Kai put her on the bed, placing the water at her bedside. 

“I’m such an idiot,” Korra laughed, “I got stuck!”

“You did,” Kai laughed back, “You’re on painkillers dummy,”

“Hey now, that’s boss dummy to you,”

“Boss dummy,” Kai corrected. Korra nodded in assent, smile fading, face morose.

“She’s married…all this time and she…she’s so perfect, but she’s married.” she eased into her pillows.

“How perfect can she be if she let her husband do that to you?” Kai asked, lifting her blanket to her chest before she rolled onto her good side.

“No it’s not her…I’m in love with her…but she’s married.” 

“I know, dream of someone better, kay boss?”

“Boss dummy,” Korra muttered.

Kai closed the door behind him softly, rubbing his face and muttering “Heavy,” beneath his breath.

“Kai _what_ -”

“ _A woman she was seeing_ ,” Kai spilled immediately, he hated secrets, and this one was already half out, “turned out she was married and her husband…you can guess. She liked her more than I thought…loves her by the sound of it.”

“How long?”

“I found her on Monday, I think this happened Friday,”

“ _June_.” Asami breathed, and the name hit hard in her chest. She’d never heard Korra talk about love before, it seemed every time they met nowadays she learned something new and entirely earth shattering.

“Is that her name? I would call but I don’t have a number, also I’m not sure I should given…” he gestured to his face, where Korra’s had been mostly red.

“I see,” 

“Doctor gave her prescription for the headaches but they make her nauseous, so she takes pills for the nausea and they make her loopy, she’s just been sleeping mostly,” Kai paused, “and sleep _walking_ ,” he meandered through her flat, replacing a chair she’d knocked over, and putting her lunch in the fridge. “I’ve got it covered.” he sighed.

“ _And I’ll be taking it from here_.” 

“But she-“

“I know,”

“But I-”

“I _know,”_ Asami hushed, “and you’ve done _beautifully_ ,” she rubbed his arms, “I’ve done this before. Black eye? Walk in the park. I knew her when she couldn’t… This isn’t your job, Kai,” she hesitated, and thought it was best not to add, _it’s mine._

He looked so young when she praised him, not quite knowing what to do with it, looking down at the ground because he was so much more used to being in trouble.

“Why don’t you go home?” 

“You’re not my-“

“I know,” Asami hushed again, giving him a hug, which he also didn’t know what to do with. When she let him go his hands were still raised at the elbow as though he were trapped at an altar. 

“N’kay,” he side stepped away gingerly, once again closing the door softly behind him. 

When he was gone, Asami pushed on the door, watched her sleeping through the crack. She could see bruised knuckles poking above the fur throw she gripped. 

_She must’ve been surprised,_ she mused, _she needs practice._

For a moment, she wondered what she’d do while waiting for her to wake, until she took a real look at the state of the apartment. 

“Oh,” she breathed, dropping her coat and purse, rolling up chiffon sleeves. 

She was re-organising the pots in the bottom cupboard when Korra surfaced. Duvet around her shoulders like a make shift cape watching her from the other end of the room.

“ _Oh,”_ Asami was surprised by her only when she was satisfied by the feng shui of the cupboard. “Is this sleepwalking?”

“I sleep walk?”

“Kai told me,”

“Kai… _oh man_ ,” then Korra remembered her face and clapped a hand over her bad eye, only to wince.

“You can’t be mad at him,”

“I’m not,” Korra sat on her couch, arm coming to rest on an unusually plump pillow. There was a moment where they looked at each other, and Korra knew exactly what her best friend was going to say. “It was _one hit,”_

_“One is too many,_ you weren’t even drunk how did he get close?”

“I was distracted! Okay? I was smoking and I didn’t know until-” Korra mimed punching, “I broke his ribs, I won it’s _fine_.”

“You’re out of practice,”

“I am not out of practice,” Korra seethed. “I didn’t know she was married, I was _blindsided._ ”

“Kai said,” Asami pursed her lips, unwilling to press further. Her mind was on the notebook downstairs, but what did it matter? Korra loved someone new. Korra's heart was probably broken. Korra had gone through it all alone. 

“You should quit,” Asami told her. 

Korra gave her a puzzled look.

“ _Smoking_.”

“Day six.” 

As Asami walked toward her she grew tense. It didn’t ease when her friend offered her water and perched beside her.

“Do you see a future with her?” 

“I-” Korra began, reeling. 

“Kai told me,”

“Kai should keep his mouth shut,” Korra mumbled, chewing the inside of her lip, inspecting Asami via side-eye and feeling her own heart pumping loudly, filling her chest with warm unfettered energy. “It’s complicated.”

“Because she'd married?”

“Because it’s _complicated.”_ Korra told her sternly, taking a sip, using the time to think of a diversion, “I don’t,” she finally answered, “she’s not what I need right now,” she tacked on with a bitter twist of her lips. “How’s the house?”

“That’s why I came here actually.” 

“Oh?” Korra tapped on the glass with her fingers to fill the silence.

“I’m thinking of moving there and its a lot of work…since Iroh’s busy with his new job, and well your evenings are opening up, and I thought...well isn’t that what friends do?”

“ _Oh_ ,”

“But you totally don’t have to, I get-”

“I’ll help,” Korra answered quickly, too quick for her reasonable mind to stop her, “…I’m sure the other’s will too, but, it’s your parent’s old house…are you sure?”

“Less and less, but, I feel like I should try…for Mom,”

Korra’s lips twisted up, she couldn’t help it, when her old friend showed bravery, she was proud of her. She tipped her glass upward, and toasted.

“ _For Yasuko._ ”

*****

Spotify Playlist ( I can't believe this works!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Motion Sickness - Phoebe Bridgers


	6. Causing Trouble - Saint Sister

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Causing Trouble - Saint Sister  
> Animal - Sir Chloe

_What the fuck am I doing?_

Korra gave her grimacing,  practiced frozen smile while Asami insisted on a parting embrace. 

_What the absolute fuck drove me to agree to this?_

The minute she heard Asami leave the studio, the twisting in her stomach had her sinking to her knees. Index finger balanced on the seal of a closed door.

“Ah fuck,” her face still hurt, her eye still stung, her heart pulsed relentlessly. _I can’t keep doing this._ She didn’t speak the words aloud. Every time she thought about preserving her sanity another masochistic part of her stifled the idea quite expertly. 

That same clandestine organisation mobilised her hands and feet, already she was seeking her tools, knowing old doors would need oil, old bolts would need tightening, old splinters sanded down. She remembered that she had an old nail gun downstairs she could use to blow her old brains out. 

She had them laid out on her kitchen island, imagining the evenings to come.

Korra wanted to scream, but in that moment a flash of red stilled her, a digital 1 beaming from her answering machine. Korra only remembered Asami’s request after hitting the play button. 

_“ Korra…Hey,_

_Iroh’s asleep, but you probably guessed that.”_

She sounded scared, her voice breathy and shaking. When she paused, she seemed steel herself.

Korra hadn’t heard her best friend sound this way in a very long time.

_“…I had a nightmare and you were in it._

_I just, I needed to hear your voice,…but I guess, I’ll settle for hearing your voice in the machine, and pretending to talk to you…”_

All of Korra’s twisting stopped as she listened, and listened carefully.

_“…before I knew it - I had already dialled your number…”_

She knew, on the surface of their lives, Asami cared for her. She knew that in a lot of ways Korra was all Asami had left. For the most part it went unspoken, and her best friend seemed satisfied with that. Alas here she was, speaking it.

_“…I need to be better for you Korra…I will be better.”_

Her husband in bed beside her, Asami had reached out and called Korra in the dead of night. 

In a moment Korra felt adored, pouring over her in so many waves she hardly knew what do with it all. 

_I can’t keep doing this._

She took a deep grounding breath, coming to an awful, gut wrenching decision. That everything, once more, had to change beyond recognition. 

_I can’t keep hoping._

She rewound the tape, and played it again for good measure.

****

Asami had spent the morning bolstering the rooms of her new-old house with boxes. She felt small walking among the stacks. In her haste she’d ordered appliances that the movers had installed but hadn’t removed the plastic. Beds lay unassembled upstairs. The back yard a ruin of time and neglect. Her bravery waned when she rediscovered a mosaic that her mother had started, and never finished above a bath. Her parents had separate bathrooms, the way their relationship had been going at the time, it wouldn’t have been long until they had separate wings of the house. 

Asami relived her time there, from room to room, once a sanctuary, now a tomb.

A lot of her father’s and her own possessions had been taken, but her mother’s were left stood in place, very much abandoned. For the better part of her plans, Asami couldn’t conceive of moving them. Still when the felt strong enough she sat at her bedside, and opened the top drawer. 

Her eyes sought for the handwriting since she set foot in the house. Would it be too much to expect a lifelong treasure hunt left behind by a mindful mother sensing the end of her days? However inadvertently, she seemed to be doing just that. 

It was with a keen sting that Asami recognised that she hadn’t had closure in almost any part of her life, and she had grown numb for it. It was why she was drawn back to her childhood home, it was why she scratched at the bottom of the wood in the hopes of a false bottom. 

With a reluctant pop the panel raised, Asami’s heart began racing as she scrabbled to release it. A leather bound book with a golden date embossed on the front. It was a journal, but it was the Sato way to never leave evidence, if so, it was with great reluctance. 

Incomplete, the last of its kind, a pen still nestled in the pages. The book fell open, and Asami before she could to question the ethics of reading her mother’s diary, she was already scanning it hungrily. How could she not when it was all she had left of her.

_When I return, I shall take my daughter away from this shallow life, and this shallow man who takes us for granted. This I swear._

She stared at those words for the longest time, unable to take them in, what they meant.

“ _Hey_ ,” she was so lost, she nearly jumped out of her skin at Korra was at the door way, “Where do you want us to put the couch?”

Asami hadn’t expected her today, so soon, bruises barely healed. 

“Us?” 

“You didn’t think we’d let you do this alone did you?” Asami hadn’t realised she’d been clenching her jaw until her best friend smiled at her, and her muscles turned to goo. Seeing her was almost enough to assuage the bomb that had just gone off in her mind. 

Following her downstairs, the rooms somehow seemed less haunted. 

Bolin had already hauled a box labeled ‘books’ to the empty library, happily unpacking the many manuals and textbooks onto the bare shelves. Mako balanced a stack of pizza’s between two hands, only identifiable by his sharp eyebrows peering over them.

Opal was lounging on a corner couch piece left by the movers waving at her friends as they descended the stairs.

“Guys, you don’t have to the movers-” Asami began to protest.

“ _Have been sent home_.” Opal informed her grinning, “You don’t need them when you’ve got a crew.” 

“Can _the crew_ get off her butt and help me organise these by colour?” Bolin teased.

“Guys, furniture first then incidentals,” Korra instructed.

“The yard too, dinner is a barbecue so we have to sort the yard out.” Mako deduced, peering through bay windows to the jungle outside. 

“Fine we’ll split into teams,” Opal concluded.

“I call team yard!” Bolin raised his hand.

As her friends argued over who got to help her in which way, Korra fell in line beside her, arms folded to match.

“You didn’t have to,” Asami protested quietly, gentle smirk on her lips.

“I wanted to.” Korra told her brusquely, “ _We_ wanted to…show you you’re not alone.” she corrected herself. Avoiding eye contact she paced to the sofa Opal still lay on and lifted one end with an impressive ease.

“Where do you want this lump?”

“Hey!” Opal protested.

“Oh I’ll show you,” Asami grabbed the other end and the pair lifted her assistant to the living room like an Egyptian queen. 

“Actually, I could get used to this.” 

It all happened so fast, Asami felt her friends galvanising at super speed around her, arranging, shaping, building, peeling off plastic with a collective satisfied awe. All the while carrying her through swathes of sadness by just being with her. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d spent a day together, focused on a single task. 

She found herself standing in the kitchen, staring out the window at her friends. Lawn now tamed, the tall grass in a pile at its corner, Korra and Bolin wrestling over the hose. 

Korra turned him in an instant of trained precision, and soon Bolin was careening nose first into a pile of greenery. She didn’t have long to bask in victory however, Bolin sprayed her directly in the face.

Asami smiled, or at least, she thought she was smiling. 

“Hey,” Mako stood beside her, offering her tissue for the tears on her cheeks. Asami pursed her lips and took it without speaking. 

“This isn’t- I’m not,”

“I know,” Mako gave his wry smile.

“I’m grateful for this,” her throat closed up. 

He touched her arm gently, squeezing.

“We’ll always do this for you,” he assured her, “This and more.” 

“Who are you and what have you done with Mako?” Asami chagrinned. He saluted awkwardly, before tripping over the door jamb and passing Korra on her way in. “There he is,”

“ _Look what I found_ ,” Korra placed a box on the counter, turning knobs it began to crackle and sing, until music poured out with complete clarity. “It was in your shed,” she was still dripping on the linoleum, hair tied up and gardening gloves crumpled in her fist. “Your little workshop was just as you left it,” 

Asami knew her friends would always show up for her, but she also knew it was Korra leading the charge.

Korra was where she never hoped to be again; alone with her. When she found the station she stayed squat, watching the little pink radio that had amazingly remained intact after all these years. 

Korra doesn’t know what possessed her to say it, and one part of her was kicking her for speaking at all.

“I’m going away for a while.” she didn’t look up as she added, “after we’re done here,”

“ _Where_?”

“I haven’t-I’m not sure,” Korra stammered. “South, maybe farther,”

“For how long?” Asami tried to keep the panic from her voice.

Korra stood, not facing her, watching their friends debate the best way to spark up an ancient grill through the window.

“I don’t know,” Korra answered honestly, omitting the _as long as it takes to get over you._

“Is this about June?” Asami pressed, and Korra tensed, feeling sick. “Because you can’t…be with her?”

“No,” she answered simply, “Not it’s not,” 

_“Then why are you doing this?”_

“Well, I was just grossly overpaid for a huge wedding commission,” Korra shrugged, attempting nonchalance, “I missed out on so much waiting to be better, I just…I feel restless now. I need to go. Just for a little while.”

“You said you wouldn’t let me do this _alone_.” Asami couldn’t stop herself from saying it, or from sounding petulant. 

Korra didn’t respond right away. She turned leaning against the counter, inspecting her . Her mouth flapped searching for something to say, until she managed the obvious.

“ _You have Iroh_ and your new life, your new _house_ , you’ll be okay…right?”

Asami pursed her lips, of course she should be, _would be_ , but imagining a life where she couldn’t call on her best friend at any time sent her anxiety into a spiral. She had to remember this wasn’t about her. Korra needed what Korra needed.

“103,” she told her, green eyes flicking down to the radio on the side. 

Korra crouched and did as she was told. Turning the wheel, changing the channel.

A hand between her shoulder blades made her tense, warm fingers burning through her partially soaked vest. The song was soft, and gentle, as was the moment that followed. 

Korra stood, turning slowly, a hand graced the bare skin of her upper arm and stepped into her space. Arms crossing behind her neck, Asami gave her that sad smile, trying to make the best of it all. 

“We didn’t finish our dance the other night,” 

Korra thought she was going to have a heart attack until her cheek found her neck once more, and settled there, like she belonged. It was becoming a pattern of hers, whereas before she was clinging for life and catching her breath, now she was simply with her, holding her close in solemnity, and calm.

Korra couldn’t think of anything else but taking her in, holding her up, until she took her fingers to her chest, and started to sway. 

Korra often forgot how much taller Asami was, especially when she buried herself in her arms in such a way, but when her chin met her temple she was reminded. Her breath fell out of her, but Korra did everything to remain silent.

She was convinced her palms were sweating before her mind began to shrink. Her body thrummed as the electricity she’d spent a decade avoiding coursed through her. Despite it all, Korra was powerless.

“You have to call me wherever you are,” Korra could feel her breath warming her skin, “Let me know that you’re safe.”

In leu of an answer Korra let her arms take her in, pretending that they were anything more for but a moment. The danger being that those three irritating little words, were battling their way up her throat. _Don’t say it._

Luckily the song ended, and Asami spoke first.

“Follow me,” 

Korra was numb to anything that wasn’t Asami’s hand curled in hers. 

She barely registered the turning of a key, the opening of the basement door, the seconds between loud painful heartbeats. 

_Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck._

They descended stairs, Korra grabbed the banister to steady herself, fingers skimming ribbon and polished wood in the dark.

“I found it on my own a few days ago,” Asami switched on the lights, “and I thought I just, I had to share it with you,”

Korra blinked slowly, more of less because her senses took their sweet time returning. 

“I don’t understand.” but she quickly caught up. She caught the framed Gi on the wall, and another, slightly smaller. They were Asami’s, robes from childhood til the last time she was there. There were climbing bars ready on the walls, weights in the far corner, training mannequins and the entire floor was covered in foam mats. Each and every free standing item had a bow around it. 

Korra saw a 16th birthday balloon, long since wilted beside them.

“Oh Asami,”

“We totally forgot about my birthday that year,” she deadpanned. “Mom was so good with her secrets.” 

“She was amazing.” Korra said matter of factly, “like you,” she tacked on without thinking about it but the impact it had made her want to hug her again.

“I was thinking, since you got your butt kicked, we could train again, but you’re leaving so…” 

Her fingers were around Korra’s heartstrings, and tugging ever so slightly. She was doing this on purpose, Korra knew, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t work. Korra cupped and gripped the back of her own neck.

“I think we can squeeze in a training session to put your mind at ease, although I _did_ I beat you enough times.” Korra defended. 

“You call 89 over 73 even?”

“You counted?” 

“You didn’t?”

Korra’s mind boggled, they’d fought hundreds of times, but she’d never looked at the numbers. She might’ve guessed why Asami had won so often though; it’s hard to fight against your crush with conviction.

Korra pointed with her pinkie and index finger, eyes narrowing. 

“ _You’re going down,_ ” 

“Right now?” Asami’s cheeks burned, body tensing, she hadn’t meant _now,_ with everyone upstairs.

“Hey guys the food is- _whoa,” Saved by the Bolin_ , he was admiring the gym from the top of the stairs, his big body builder eyes glittering in awe. 

"That's great, _I'm starved!_ Come on guys lets go!” Asami rushed, swiping her hair behind her ears as she marched.

“What about?” Korra pointed.

“But I…?” Bolin whined.

“ _Come on_ ,”

****

When the night seemed to draw to a logical close, Asami barely held it together, and lost it completely sometime between Mako’s forehead kiss and Bolin’s hug. 

“This was a barn raising honey,”He told her, rubbing his cheek enthusiastically on her head which couldn’t help but make her feel small and sheltered. 

“Come on you big moose,” Opal rubbed his back.

“They grow up so fast!” he swiped his eyes and let himself be led away. 

“I’ll see you,” Korra gave that odd three fingered wave, “I’ll pick up the tiles from the hardware store tomorrow.”

“Korra wait,” The others were far enough away that it wouldn’t feel selfish to ask, “I had a bottle of wine I was saving, if you’re free.”

“Don’t you want to save if for-“

“He’s out on War games, he won’t be back for a few hours and I…” she trailed off, her fears simple and obvious. 

“Alright,” 

They sat on the couch they’d assembled that morning, and although it, and the glasses in their hands, were hers from her old place, here they felt jumbled and confused. 

“How do you feel?” Korra pressed, eager to keep the conversation away from herself.

“I- next question,” Asami’s smile turned into a grimace, swirling her red and sipping. A laugh fell out of her companion.

“That bad?”

“I loved today,” Asami told her, “having you all here, but I, this place, it’s just not easy.”

“I know.”

Asami looked at her face in the flickering candle light left over from their living room dinner. It seemed preferable than seeing the it in all it’s former glory, and made it instead a warm cosy place. 

“Do you really have to go?”

“I…do,” Korra nosed her own wine. She hadn’t acquired the taste, she did appreciate the levity it brought to her in a few simple sips now that she could stomach it. “It feels like the last part of what I need to heal,” 

Before she could even flinch cold soothing fingertips framed the marks under her eye and cheek, faded now, but still visible. 

“He really did a number on you didn’t he?”

“ _I_ _will fight you now,”_

Asami found her laugh, hiding it in her wine as Korra grew more indignant.

“I will, I will kick your ass, I’m telling you,”

“You love me too much,” she teased.

“I will break your teeth,” Korra added unconvincingly and Asami snorted, swatting at her, catching her hand to keep from falling.

Her laughter petered off as a thumb traced her own, and Korra fell back into watching her quietly. 

“Do you think I’m a fool? For doing this?”

“I think you’re brave,” Korra answered without hesitating, “You’re older and more equipped to deal with this place, honestly, I’m surprised you never looked back sooner.”

“I couldn’t I,” Asami hadn’t meant to start down this road, a thought she hadn’t yet herself examined, “I’ve been so numb,” she admitted, “and this place is opening it all up for me. I’m enthralled…but I’m also _terrified.”_

“The past is scary,” Korra mused, concentrating very hard on her wine for that moment. The silence stretched, and all the heiress could feel was the heavy pounding of her own heart that came coupled with a secret. 

“I think my dad was cheating on my mom, before the end.”

“What?” Korra tensed, well aware of her own brush with extra marital affairs, and very much still sore from it.

“I found her diary…I read parts. The last thing she wrote was, she was going to take me and go, and god it would have changed everything. I hesitate to think that _maybe,_ I’d be happy.”

Another beat, longer than the last, as Korra’s blues studied her.

“You’re not happy?” she breathed, a revelation that felt like a curse pinning her here.

“I’m not sure you’d want to hear it…I don’t know anyone who would…” Asami looked down at her wine, dark and swirling. She could fall in it and keep falling if she let herself, if she didn’t know Korra was behind her to catch her.

Korra’s fingers couldn’t help but reach out, and graze the side of her palm before retracting instinctively.

“I’m here.”

Asami took a sip, and let the words tumble from her red lips.

“This doesn’t feel like it should, _being married,_ ” she subconsciously illustrated what she meant via the turning of Iroh’s ring, “I don’t know if I was this empty before, but I am now and I don’t know if it’s this house, or, or him or me,” she closed her eyes, “all my dreams were in this, but right now I just…I don’t feel content like I hoped. And now I read this and…I look like my mother but…I feel like I’m turning into _him,_ caring less, back sliding I-” 

The idea of Korra presented itself to her more readily than the actual Korra did then, the amalgam of mystery women, and June, the married woman she loved, but could not be with.

Her eyebrows arched in their worried way, mouth gulping a larger taste of liquid shame. 

“ _You are not your father,_ ” Korra’s hand had found hers instinctively, and held tight “Iroh’s got his new job so he’s not around, and this place has got to be dredging up all these memories you’re not used to… but it’ll level out.”

“Am I a bad person?” Asami heaved a breath, still looking ahead, not daring to look at her best friend. The sound was enough to finally draw her comforting touch, like a beacon of warmth, the sculptor’s hand graced her neck. “I feel like I did this because I had to but I wasn’t feeling anything, and now I’m awake, but I _didn’t know,_ Korra I didn’t know I could ever feel like this again, and he’s gone all the time and we can’t _sort this out,_ but I’m not even sure if it’s him-” her pitch rose and breath escaped her, for the first time in a decade Asami’s facade slipped from her cheeks and shattered on the ground.

Korra acted without thinking, as she tended to around Asami, plucking her wine from her grasp and turning her face back into the warm crook of her neck. Her body twisting instinctively into her arms.

“I can’t tell you what you’re feeling right now is temporary, I can’t tell you to forget it and move on because this feeling is real and it’s uncomfortable.” Asami seemed to still as she listened to her, softening, letting Korra hold her up, “You’re the smartest person I know. Remember why you did this.”

“Because…it’s the _dream_ , isn’t it?”

“Who’s dream?” she couldn’t tell how wide Korra’s eyes were, she couldn’t tell how her heart raced, even with her ear pressed against her pulse. 

“ _Everyone’s_ , it just makes sense… doesn’t it?”

“Does it?”

“All my life I’ve thought about that painting, and wanting it, it was my blue print, and I’m so close but it just _isn’t_ …” she could hardly bear to untangle the knot of thoughts she was in, that she’d apparently spent a lifetime weaving. 

“It hasn’t been long,” Korra’s voice sounded soft, and small, “you’ve been through a lot…” she hesitated to ask if she’d been sleeping. The corner stones of Asami’s life were being pulled into question, and every word fanned the flames of Korra’s hope. 

The hope that she was trying her level best to stamp out. 

“Yeah,” Asami conceded as they parted, and Korra seemed to put in more distance than before. She swiped at her tears. “More wine?”

Asami knew Korra would stay if she finished her second glass, that she would fall asleep there. She knew that Iroh would find them in the small hours of the morning, slumbering side by side. 

She knew that he would lay a blanket over them, and quietly attempt to familiarise himself with what was to be his new home. 

It all made sense, and it soothed her to an extent, that she understood at least these two people.

She could never guess she’d spend that same night dreaming of lips flush with hers, of fingers carding through her hair, clothes being parted in the shuffle and a body soft and supple pressing hers into the couch she’d fallen asleep on. She had to admit it had been a while since she'd felt the urge, perhaps it finally feeling a semblance of safety in her new home that allowed her psyche to let loose, and relax. She'd taken the first big step, and now was time to reap the rewards. 

The dream was visceral, filled with sensation and burning heat. It didn’t matter she couldn’t see who kissed her, who’s fingers skimmed her abdomen and had her core clenching. It was obvious to her, who she should be dreaming about, and had no qualms over scoring her nails down a muscular back, and sliding her own hand into parted jeans. 

Turning her head to let lips kiss the column of her throat, she moaned and the name fell out of her quite unexpectedly.

_“Korra,”_

_“Shh,”_ came her reply, those perfect lips smiling evenly for once, before capturing hers again in the dark.

Asami woke with a start and rose sharply. Blanket falling, she found Korra out for the count. Using her own folded arm as a pillow, sleeping mouth still pouting as expected. 

None of it was real, but the effects were undeniable.

_Oh my god,_ Asami’s hands clasped her mouth. She stumbled over the coffee table, tipping long extinguished candles over, before peeling open bay doors to a freshly mowed garden in the throes of a crisp, cool, morning dew. Sunrise a mere hour away, she hoped the cold would sober her, would make her skin less feverish and her heart slow it's rampant pulsing. 

Her nerves were balanced on a blade as she pushed her palms over chest for fear it could wake Korra, and oh the questions that would ensue. When she closed the door she spied Korra’s jacket, still slung, forgotten over a bistro chair, more importantly she found the cigarettes nestled in the inside pocket. 

She scrambled for them, desperate for anything to make the world stop. She had already sparked the end and taken a drag before she remembered she quit five years ago. These were death sticks and she swore them off, so had Korra. It only made sense to turn to them when her feelings became too much for her, when everything in her life was spectacularly falling apart. 

_Fuck._


	7. Witch -  Be Steadwell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Witch - Be Steadwell
> 
> Bite The Hand - Julien Baker, Phoebe Bridgers, Lucy Dacus

In retrospect, Asami wasn’t proud of what she did next, but at the same time it was all she could think of to do. For Iroh, his wife crawling into bed with him in the middle of the night and giving him urgent kisses came as a surprise, but Asami had a point to prove and it couldn’t wait. 

She tried to keep her grip on reality, on her husband whom she pledged to love forever, and not on her friend on the couch asleep downstairs. They were in the throes when her mind started to drift. The trick was to never close her eyes, or the hands on her body would transform, brown eyes to blue, even his dulcet tones morphed into the soft cadence of Korra’s voice.

The first moments were all about fighting that dream. Korra trusted her, and even if there was the slightest possibility anything more could happen, two things were utterly apparent that should prevent it, she was _married_ , and ultimately, too late. 

The second June popped into her mind, something inside her snapped, and her eyes slammed shut. 

Korra was gazing at her, her smile open and even, she couldn’t help but kiss it, but bite her lip for fear of crying out her name. In bed with her husband was not the time. 

Next thing she knew she was under the cold of her shower touching her lips. She couldn’t stop the rage of bad ideas, thoughts that kept her fingertips tracing her own cupid’s bow. If Korra were here right now under the stream she’d simply lean on her, maybe kiss her shoulder. If she were about to cry, she should at least weep where she felt most at home. 

_What is wrong with me?_

After scrubbing cigarette and shame from her teeth, she stood in clean bed clothes watching her husband sleep, feeling impure and parched. She considered the pros and cons of finding an empty room in this house and crawling into the cold miserable darkness where she belonged. 

Her head was throbbing, she needed to drink, but the kitchen was through the living room wherein the star of her dreams was slumbering. 

Korra could never know, but how could she not from looking at her? How could she be dishonest to the person who read her best? Who on earth could possibly do that?

She was a phantom stalking the halls, biting her nails, sunrise pouring through the windows and cooling everything it touched. She resolved never to close her eyes again as she purposefully avoided eye contact with the pink radio left on the counter, and stepped over where she and her friend had swayed as gentle as the breeze.

It was all she could think about until a shout had her flinching. 

Korra was having a nightmare. Asami found her bolt upright, knuckles white clutching the fabric of the couch. Footsteps had her twisting back, blues searching, settling on Asami. 

“ _Korra_ ,” before she knew it, she was already stood in front of her, combing her fingers through her hair, cradling her forehead against her stomach. Korra was using her grip on her shirt to ground herself, slowly easing her tremble. This was an old pattern Asami had almost forgotten. 

“ _I’m sorry_ -“ she breathed. 

“ _Shh_ ,” Asami hushed her, stroking Korra’s hair behind her ears, “assume the position,” 

Korra had suffered physically and mentally over the years, a car accident in her youth had thrown her life off course, while she reclaimed her strength, her confidence and autonomy, she still couldn’t shake the nightmares. Asami had been critical to help her through it, stepping up where her parents couldn’t, or Korra wouldn’t allow. It culminated in more nights than she could count, cradling her head and stroking her hair until she felt safe and real enough to sleep.

“What, I’m-”

“I said _shh,”_ she gestured for her to slide aside. Half awake, a little disgruntled but ultimately amenable in her compromised state, Korra did as she was told. 

At an angle Asami tucked her toes under the arm rest, arranged a blanket just so over her stomach and lap. It was then Asami stopped, cheeks raging, this felt far more intimate than she should allow given her state of mind. It only got worse when she noticed Korra hesitating. 

“Is this too much?”

“No just,” Korra’s lips twitched up, "deja vu,”

“We can just… _talk_ about it?” Asami offered half heartedly. Korra was shaking her head before she finished asking. 

“It’s fading,” she dropped her gaze, “I’d rather not relive it again.”

Asami intended on being tender, taking a finger and tilting her chin up, but all she could concentrate on was preventing that finger from shaking. 

“Come on,” 

Korra’s head was back in her lap, her arms about her waist, and Asami curled those soft tendrils around her fingers once again. Despite the early morning she’d just had, her primal imaginings became the furthest thing from her mind then.

“Wow,”

“What?”

“This feels the same.” She looked down at her profile, where Korra laughed, and her half smile could be perceived as being full, just this once.

“Appreciate it.” Korra closed her eyes dutifully, and heaved a sigh before opening them. “Did you shower? And _change,_ ” She rolled on her back to look up at her, confirming her friend’s hair was still dewey. 

Asami absolutely didn’t want to tell her exactly what she’d been up to, and in the absence of an answer, and inability to think up a lie she told a half truth.

“I smoked.”

“ _What_?”

“I-I had a stressful night and I just fell into that old habit and god _I regret it,_ and I had to scrub it _off my skin_.”

“And you told _me_ to quit!”

“I wasn’t thinking!”

“But you’re the brains!”

“Shut up and go to sleep.” She covered Korra’s eyes, and felt the flutter of her eye lashes tickle her palm as she blinked and shook with laughter. Soon enough, with a little help with a thumb tracing bridge of Korra’s nose, Asami had her best friend cradled in her lap asleep. 

_Oh this is worse,_ Asami thought admiring slack features, _this is much worse,_ Korra nestled her ear instinctively into the soft and warm, _I’m in love with her._

_****_

Asami was horizontal when she awoke, and cold. 

She had a vague recollection of twisting that way and Korra folding in beside her without complaint.

The initial disorientation of not waking up in her own bed was followed by the secondary gut wrenching realisation that she was in love with her best friend. _Where is she?_

Columbian dry roast coffee lured her to the kitchen, where Korra was, pencil behind ear, towel over shoulder, flipping pancakes onto a plate. _Oh crap this isn’t helping._

The daylight made her hair shine golden at the edges. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” Korra cooed, without looking, swinging her hips to that little pink radio. The sight had Asami in a complete and total state of euphoria. “Iroh took his to go,” and like that she came crashing down to earth.

“ _Did he see us_?” 

Korra’s brows arched as she turned and placed plates, mouth flapping.

“I don’t think so, I was up when he came down…everything okay?”

“Sure…are you?”

“ _Fine_ ,” Korra’s eyes bounced, plucking a strawberry on her plate and chomping on it. 

Asami pursed her lips and twisted her fingers under the table. 

“Why the pencil?”

“I had a look at your bathroom, the mosaic,” Korra plucked it from her ear, and pulled up sketches from a bundle she’d started on the counter. From the detail, and the quantity, it was clear Korra had been up for some time.

In one moment, Asami remembered her mother’s unfinished masterpiece, and in the next, the plethora of sketches Korra had drawn of her. Asami’s emotions were being swatted from one direction to another at an alarming rate. 

“Your mom had all the tiles, but there were these gaps, I thought we needed more, but based on the colours I think, there was space for shells…are you okay?”

“Yeah for a moment I… forgot about her…about everything”

“Oh,” Korra balked, “I-“

“It’s okay,” Asami reached for Korra’s hand, before remembering herself and sliding back, “I’m going to get like this a lot I think, just sad all of a sudden.” 

“Can I say something?” Asami could only nod in assent, heart in her throat, watching her friend perch anxiously on the island stool. “I think it’s time you saw him.” 

Asami waited for her to elaborate, but she of course knew about whom she was referring.

“He left all this pain in his wake, in _your_ path. It made sense then to shut him out, but now you can’t help it, you have to deal with what happened because you’re here reliving it.” she reached out tentatively to brace her forearm, little did she know her thumb evoked a chill of sensation, causing the down there to stand on end. 

“You’re older, you’re _stronger,_ and he’s alive in that prison. You never know after all these years he might have some closure for you, but on your terms, so you can take control.” 

Asami fell silent, watching her. It was an idea only Korra could have, bold and brave. 

“I hope I’m not out of line.” she tacked on shyly, using the other hand she’d reached toward her to push her food closer in apology.

“No it’s an idea,” Asami took that hand, a flash of an earnest gesture, “I’ll think about it,”

Korra gave her that tilted head, encouraging half smile, and Asami attempted to give her back the same.

“Eat up,” 

****

It was a marvel that Asami made it through the process of finishing what her mother started without bawling. Still, navigating such a project with Korra in close proximity, balancing over the bath, dextrous fingers at work in the plaster and tile, had a somewhat distracting affect.

She just had to get through today without blabbing, and then Korra would be gone for who knows how long, and she could return to the status quo. _And that would be just fine,_ she told herself, _just fine and or dandy._

“You alright?” 

“Hmm?”

Korra didn’t look up from her side, placing a tile into the fore, blue. _Like her eyes._

“You haven’t said anything since you started the tail.” she sat back to inspect Asami’s side, “And it doesn’t look like it, but you started a while ago.”

Asami hip checked her out of petty instinct. 

“I was just…thinking,” nothing she could share, of course, but she improvised, “why were you up so early?”

It was Korra’s turn to go quiet.

“Did you have another nightmare?” Asami pressed.

“No,” 

“Was it June?”

“ _No,_ I don’t get why you’re so hung up on her, really, we just slept together _a lot_ and obviously we shouldn’t have,” she gestured to her near-healed face as had become her habit. 

“I thought you two were…serious,” Asami recalled her drug-induced ramblings, _she’s perfect, but she’s married. If not June then who?_

“We weren’t,” Korra shrugged.

“Oh…good then,” Asami shouldn’t have felt so relieved, but at the same time, having a face to the name helped her target her jealousy. 

“Harsh.”

“You know what I mean.” she schooled her features as best she could. 

“Do I?” Korra teased. 

Asami bit her lip, and raised her brows, pushing expectation onto her friend.

“I wanted a head start.” Korra shrugged.

As she placed another tile, Korra remembered viscerally waking up with her torso nestled between Asami’s legs, her face cushioned on her flat stomach, rising and falling with her gentle breaths. All these hours later her fingers were tangled fondly in her hair, both hands, still scratching periodically even in her sleep. Korra couldn’t get out fast enough without losing her damn mind. 

If she felt guilty before, it tripled at the sight of Asami looking so lost. Korra had made her plans to save herself, but it killed her knowing it was while Asami seemed to need her most. 

“I thought we could spar, after we were done here.”

“Really?” Asami looked positively thrilled at the idea of grappling with her, for half a second, freezing only as she remembered how difficult that might be.

“Yeah,” Korra grinned enthused, if a little forced, “But I don’t have any work out clothes…”

“ _I have spares._ ” Asami was already striding into the master bedroom. Light sweatpants and a loose tank were thrown in her direction. “See you down there!” 

"What about the mosaic?"

"It'll be here tomorrow!" Asami called from the other room, "We deserve a break!"

The clothes felt expensive, and seemingly matched the cut of her body perfectly, tapering at the ankle, and framing her collar bones just so. Her arms, objectively her best feature, had full freedom of movement, and Asami couldn’t help but regret her choice as she watched Korra’s back muscles rise and work while Korra stretched and tied her little tufted pony tail. 

“Should we warm up?” Korra asked, admiring the dojo. Now with all its lights on, it looked even more beautiful. The wood on the bars and floor was dark and rich, the mats dusted and polished, the weights in the corner had their just unboxed sheen. 

“Did you warm up when the husband took a swipe at you?” Asami jibed, tying her own hair up high. She’d opted for long sleeves, her thumbs woven through at the tops to keep them from slipping, and Korra’s touch from igniting her there. She could only find her shorts however, after giving her best pants to Korra, she hoped that would be enough to keep her covered. She had nothing to worry about at any rate, leg work was her specialty.

“Hajime!” Asami announced with a punch, Korra ducked back, losing her footing. She made a noise of protest, but the rush was undeniable. She found her form, smiling, and went for a high kick. Asami had her twisting away with the back of her hand, and they fell into that old sparring pattern, evenly matched, if a little out of practice. 

Excitement burned low in her belly, visceral and deep. Asami was a competitor through and through, and meeting Korra all those years ago, she’d finally found her match. 

Muscle memory was a remarkable thing. Except, now Asami could finally feel that degree of difference, perhaps it was the time between matches, perhaps it was because Korra’s body had changed. She was stronger in a lot of ways, and incredibly well guarded, she found it tough to find an opening in her stance. 

Still she noticed something that she was sure was there before, but now she was certain of it. Asami could sense she was giving Korra more opportunity to strike, to overpower her, these were mistakes of course, but at every turn, Korra seemed to ignore them completely. After a while it became infuriating. 

_You’re better than this._ She seethed internally, and once there was a spark, it didn’t take long until she could fuel the angry flame. _Why are you holding back?_

Korra caught her forearms before they connected with her, but instead of taking advantage she braced them for but a moment. Asami tackled her, ungracefully taking out her feet with her own, but it did the job, her legs tangling with Korra’s, twisting and attempting to get the upper hand, or at least making a show of it.

It all came to a halt, Asami had mounted her, palm drawn back, fist curled in Korra’s top. Korra had her head turned away, bracing for the final hit, sweat painting her skin as she held her breath. 

Asami could hear her without her even speaking. Her words from days ago, floating back into the fore of her mind.

_All this time and she…she’s so perfect, but she’s married._ She could feel the ring on her finger so acutely it was burning her.

“ _Me_ ,” 

Korra popped open an eye, curious as to why Asami hadn’t ended the match yet.

“You never told me,” Asami’s breath skipped, her lips twisting as she wrestled with the great sadness that had settled upon her soul. The kind that sensed the way her life should have gone, and missed it.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” it was too late to make any kind of difference, but she begged all the same.

Her fingers came up to meet Korra’s jaw, and she watched her entire visage change at such a simple touch, she grew tense, only to soften as Asami balanced her forehead over hers. Her eyes were so big and so blue, Asami couldn’t help but just fall into them. 

Korra couldn’t comprehend what was happening, her heart was pounding in her throat, Asami was so close, close to her secret, closed over her body, surrounding her. 

Against their better judgements, Asami bowed her head, and Korra rose up to meet her.

Their kiss was firm and sure, the only instinct Asami had left was to cup Korra’s jaw and keep her there, not that she needed to. A sigh escaped her when Korra knotted her fingers at the base of her head. 

They were an island, nothing in reality could touch them, not as Asami’s thighs squeezed her, or Korra engaged her core and twisted, planting Asami’s back on the polished mat. They were alone, and _exquisite,_ at least until their lips parted. 

“ _What_?” 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” 

Korra scrambled to dismount her.

“I’m _sorry_ ,” she bounced her eyes, rubbing them, euphoria quickly being replaced with mortified shame. 

“I kissed you,” 

“We _both-_ ” Korra couldn’t help the crack in her voice, her eyes were leaking, she bee lined for the stairs. This is not what she wanted. This is not how she imagined it. Absolutely perfect, and devastating all the same. 

“Korra wait!” Asami called after her, she couldn’t catch her until the kitchen. She grabbed her wrist and Korra stopped, a statue refusing to look at her. Chest heaving, glaring ahead unblinking, teeth worrying her lip. “ _Talk to me_ ,”

“You’re not thinking straight,” she whispered back, her voice a broken husk. Korra shook her head, and it was in the motion Asami spied the stream of tears falling down her cheeks.

Asami didn’t know where to begin, the dreams, the growing obsession, the L word that was ricocheting around her chest at an alarming rate.

“ _You drew me,_ ” 

“I draw a lot of things,”

_“Thirty pages_ ,” Asami slipped her grip to squeeze the palm she trapped, “You told Kai you loved a married woman… _it’s me isn’t it_?”

“I…it doesn’t matter. _This is a mistake_ , you made a commitment,” her voice struggled to speak the words, the obvious, she’d never heard Korra sound so vulnerable, so small, like she was giving up everything just to tell her this, “you’re just confused…” she looked up at the ceiling, begging the heavens to evaporate her where she stood, “this is what you want,” she gestured to the room they were in, the oven, the fridge, the fruit bowl, the chairs and table, “ _not me_ ,”

“What do you want?”

“ _Don’t_ ,”

“Korra _please_.”

“I _can’t_.” but when she felt the tug on her fingers, she couldn’t help but make the turn, she closed her eyes to keep from looking into the sun.

“Forget everything else.” Asami cupped her jaw again, thumbing away the tears away “If I asked you to kiss me now, would you do it?”

Korra had to steel herself, gripping Asami’s wrists to keep time still just this _once_. Asami was giving her what she needed to process, and beneath everything that overwhelmed her was a tidal wave of pure joy. 

“ _Ask me_ ,”

“Kiss me,” Asami was already closing the distance as she spoke, but Korra had her stepping back, until her back hit something hard and metal that shunted back a little when Korra’s thumb traced over her lip, coaxing them apart, moving as close as she dared. 

She could feel her trembling beneath her, simply from being pressed close, something she could only guess at before in her wildest dreams. She could taste the want in the air between them, and finally she could see that Asami's reflected her own.

“ _Korra_ ,” she whimpered, breath shaking. Her lips finally found hers in a gentle kiss, innocent in comparison to the ones that preceded it. Asami keened as the tension snapped, unravelling Korra’s hair from its tie as she clutched her close. Korra’s hard hands bracing Asami’s hips against the fridge. The kisses became encompassing and frantic, trying to crush in years of lost time, missed opportunities. Their grips tight and insistent, fingers twisting into clothes and locks and lips bruising from the deep, needful embrace. 

Korra felt the slide of Asami's lipstick, and tasted what she had longed to, teeth catching the plump rouge and tugging her, earning a moan and scratch on her shoulder.

Suddenly she felt a cold, sharp, steel reminder of why this shouldn’t be happening, digging in to her scalp. Asami’s wedding ring, like that she remembered her presenting it to her, no, it was Iroh’s grandmother’s.

She surged back, stung by it. The sound of Asami’s gasp falling out of her hit her hard in her chest.

“ _I can’t do this_ … it’s not fair on…” she swallowed, shaking her head, numb, “we shouldn’t be friends anymore.”

“ _Korra_ , Korra no,” Asami had her hand in her grip again, only to have it ripped away, “I can’t be happy without you.”

“Neither can I,” Korra admitted in the grip of her newfound lunacy, making for the door despite her whole being screaming at her to turn back. “ _Don’t follow me,_ ”

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was able to commission some amazing art from 5hio (with reader help!) for chapter 7 and I've been thinking up ideas for others. Scroll back up chapter 7 to see it or copy and paste this link for more info and links to how it got made ! 
> 
> https://hellorhogwartsfics.tumblr.com/post/632346529938718720/thank-you-for-donating-to-the-brink-art-i-cannot
> 
> If you want to check out the artist?  
> https://5hi0.carrd.co/#


	8. Rats - Pillow Queens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rat's - Pillow Queens  
> Mary - Big Thief

In the kitchen Asami sank to her knees, sobbing, clasping her hand over her mouth.

Outside, Korra ripped open her car door. She struggled with her keys, the ring snapped and they fell. The only thing she could do was thwack her forehead on the steering wheel and sob. The sky was weeping too, clouds gone dark throwing torrential streams of rain that within a few feet of the house, Korra was unrecognisable. 

Perhaps it was knowing this that led her to just sitting there, this and the weakness in her soul. She could still taste her lips, when her eyes were closed she could relive it, better than any dream. The fierce way she had gripped her arms still burned her skin. 

_What am I doing? What am I_ doing _? This is everything I wanted! But she’s married, she chose him, she kissed me. Asami kissed me. Why did she kiss me?_

In the swirl of self loathing, her memories of the kiss were becoming tainted with the look on Asami's face when she swore her off. 

_Why did I do that to her?_

A rational adult would go back to talk to her, and for a moment she imagined it. How unfortunate that the first and only thing she could think of would be kissing her in the rain. The urge curled every muscle in her spine, her own body was fighting her, wrestling internally to stay, to leave, to move on with her life and stick to the plan. 

_I can’t leave her like this._

A cheerful knock on her window had her flinching, slamming her hand on the horn, blaring above the din of the storm. 

“Hey Korra!” Iroh chirruped, holding on his hat against the wind and rain. The respectable gentleman, bracing the weather in his trench-coat with a smile.

“ _Fucking_ hell,” Korra seethed beneath her breath. 

“You done with the mural already?” he smiled at her, the poor sap, he has no idea.

“What? Yes, _no!” I kissed your wife, shut up! “What are you doing back?”_

“I’m such a dunce I left some files here, I’m out of sorts in this new place, but I’ll get the hang of it. Are you okay?”

“What?” Korra was having a hard time processing anything beyond _Your wife kissed me. So. Many. Times. “I’m fine,_ Kai called, he needs help with a client - _urgent, gotta go.”_

“But your face?” 

Korra yanked down the mirror to take a look and flinched, scarlet sunrise smeared her mouth and cheek and _fuck, her neck._

_“It’s blood,”_ she hurriedly used Asami’s shirt to wipe it away, “We fought, _training,_ and she got me… right in the mouth. It’s normal for us,” 

“I’m sure we have a first aid kit-”

“I said I’m _fine_ ,” Korra snapped, frazzled, the fact that she loathed this man to her core certainly wasn’t helping. She snatched the key from the floor at her feet and slammed it in the ignition, twisting. 

“Boy the world is really taking it out on you this week, huh?” Korra could only roll her eyes and stare ahead. “What happened?” he seemed genuinely perturbed by her outburst, a man she had tried to ignore for all the years he was pawing at her best friend. Korra softened, eyes falling towards the house.

“She’s having a rough day, just…” she closed her eyes, “go easy on her.” when she looked back at him he seemed to understand only part of it, if any of it at all. Korra felt numb when she added, “Let her come to you,”

Resolute, he nodded, turning his attentions towards the house. Korra drove home in a daze. 

Asami had fair warning her husband had arrived from Korra’s car blaring. Cursing under her breath, she instinctively wiped her mouth and tears. She wasn’t ready for this utter failure to come to a head, not until she herself understood what exactly was going on.

She had to act, she knew, but her emotions held her hostage. This something her husband had yet to experience in her. In fact it was new to her up until recently. 

She had fought, kissed and lost her best friend all in a single afternoon. The impact of which had yet to crush her when her husband was ten feet away. 

She bolted for the stairs.

“Honey?” she didn’t respond beyond a non committal hum. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine!” she called back. She went straight to her desk, a grand mahogany beast she’d had moved to the room across from the master bedroom. Her body started to search its contents frantically before she realised why. 

“What are you doing?”

“The last letter from the prison,” she seethed, “I stuffed it in here, years ago,”

“What happened?” He kneeled beside her and closed a drawer she left open. 

“I just-I need it,” 

“Why?”

“Because,” she was scratching at the wood bottoms now. Like mother, like daughter.

“Asami?” He scooped her wrists turning her away from it. 

“Because I need answers, _I’m stuck in the mess he left me in and-”_ he leaned to embrace her, to hug her tight only she flinched, “ _Don’t touch me,_ ” her eyes widened, “I’m sorry,” she stood. “I’m not…I just don’t want to be touched right now.”

He tried his best to school his wounded gaze when he ghosted his hands over hers.

“This was supposed to be a new start, but if you can’t handle it-”

“This is my _mother’s_ house.” 

“And it’s _driving_ you crazy,”

“Of course it is! My mother died in this house, my _family_ died here, I have to start it again and Korra-” she stopped, speaking her name was like being socked in the throat. 

“What about Korra?” 

“Was there too…she knew what it was like for me here… she said if I talked to my father, in _prison_ , maybe I could get some closure, and she’s right.” She pulled the bottom draw, and shut it deflated. She stood pacing away from him, “I’ll get the number from Opal,” 

Iroh stayed on the ground as he watched her leave, weighing Korra’s instruction, and wishing he’d followed it. His heart was pounding, and it was now he chose to show it, exhaling heavily, opening the one draw Asami seemed to miss. He pulled out a letter of his own pen, crumpled and folded tightly. He’d forgotten about it til seeing Asami so close to finding it. 

_Dear Asami,_

_If you’re reading this, I did the unthinkable. I have left you._

He reread it, his heart performing a pendulum swing as he weighed this day with the ones he dreaded, and the ones he hoped for. 

“I’m sorry,” Asami stood timid at the door. He cooly slipped the note into his jacket pocket and fed her a smile.

“It’s alright.” he assured her. “I dread to say this but, I’ve been called away on special manoeuvres.”

His wife eyed him calmly, trying to decide if she would need him there to figure out if her future was with him, or if he’d just get in the way and get his heart broken.

“For how long?”

“Until we get the bad guy.”

“Oh,”

“Yeah.”

“One of those.” she turned away and this time he followed.

“It’ll be a few days, two weeks tops…Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Asami-“he began.

“ _Really_ , it’ll be good to get out of my path while I go through this,” she indicated the house, and felt ever so cowardly that she was ignoring the still lingering taste of Korra on her lips. “You’d better start packing. I need to go take a shower.”

***** 

_“Korra it’s me, we have to talk about this…”_

Korra had become something of an expert on screening calls.

_“You can’t throw away a decade of friendship over something I believe we can work through…”_

If she were at work in the studio blasting angry feminist punk rock she couldn’t even hear the phone ring. 

_“…Don’t let this be the thing that ruins it…please I couldn’t-“_

She’d pull the plug in the evenings, knowing Asami was in a nine to five. Admittedly this did make it difficult for customers to book commissions.

_“Please pick up…please…I miss you.”_

She’d listen to the tape, every night, because she couldn’t stop thinking about it to get to sleep. 

_“I understand if you never want to speak to me after but please…please say goodbye. I can’t keep losing people without goodbyes…”_

After listening, it was definitely impossible to get to sleep thereafter. 

_“I’m calling the prison today…wish me luck.”_

The calls stopped sometime after this message. She knew she should delete the evidence, but after everything, a twisted part of her relished in just the sound of Asami’s voice. She wanted to reach out just as much, but again, she felt weak, and couldn’t get her thoughts past kissing her to know what she wanted to do or say. 

“You unplugged your phone _again_?” Opal snapped, kicking her front door open, making Korra reel into a fighting stance before she recognised Asami’s assistant.

“Jesus Opal! What are you even doing here?”

“What do you think? Is she here?”

“Who?”

“Asami,”

“We’re not speaking,”

“ _What_? Oh god this is bad, this is really bad.”

“ _What?”_

_“Have you checked your messages?”_ Opal made for the machine, but Korra leapt to block her.

_“No,_ I mean yes she hasn’t called me _\- what’s happened to Asami?”_

Opal looked mortified, shaking and cradling her own head, very much feeling that she’d been trapped in her own blunder fuelled nightmare.

_“They sent her his ashes.”_

_“What?”_

“Her father…Hiroshi, she called the prison to lift the non contact and they told her he’d died _a month ago_ …This morning I signed for a box and she opened it and it was his _ashes_ , and now nobody can find her and Iroh is deployed and I thought she’d come to you!"

“He _died_?”

“She never wanted to hear from him again - she made it _illegal_ for them to tell her anything about him and when she reached out…well most people who make that order _don’t undo it,”_

Opal was a spectacular assistant, an exemplar time keeper, tactful, impeccable organisational skills and incredible attention to detail, but today she had been plowed over by the unthinkable. It made the anxious panic more acute knowing it was her friend who was suffering because of her mistakes.

“Did you try the old apartment?” Korra’s own heart hitched into high gear. 

“Yes, and the new house, _every room,_ I-“

Opal kept talking her through her day, but Korra’s mind was elsewhere. In that old house, when Asami still thought well enough of Hiroshi, she would sneak into the garage to watch him work. Of course his was a lucrative business, and being exceedingly eccentric in tandem with being obscenely wealthy, Korra recalled the secret entrance to such a place father and daughter once held dear. 

“I know where she is,”

Korra snatched her keys and made for the door. 

“You do?” Opal balked, “Wait why aren’t you two speaking?” 

Korra made a point of not answering, she barely held it together long enough waiting for Opal to get in the car. It seemed improper to speed off to the old Sato Mansion without the agitated messenger.

“I don’t understand, I was just here,” 

Korra rolled her eyes, marching with purpose, the masochistic parts of her cheering her on. She came to the bookshelf, now stacked in a chromatic scale of colour thanks to Bolin. She fumbled between the tops of the books and the underside of a shelf, until an imperceptible panel gave under her palm, and the library began to slide apart.

The stairs between them lit up, and Korra began the descent without waiting for Opal to pull her jaw from the ground. 

“You knew this was here the whole time?”

“We played hide and seek here for years.” Korra shrugged, pushing on the final door. Windowless, filled with blinding light and new age looking tech, at least for a decade ago, belied an engineers dream workshop. In the centre of which sat a Satomobile unseen by the public eye. Hot rod red, gold and black, it was set to be the hottest car of the era, but its prototype never saw the light of day. 

Asami was curled up on the passenger seat. Korra watched her for a moment, whether she was too lost in her own thoughts to notice them breech the sanctuary, or simply unable to deal with acknowledging them at all, Asami didn’t look up. She cradled a notebook to her chest, breathing softly, as her eyes let out tear after tear. 

“What are you waiting for?” Opal enquired. 

“You go,” Korra told her.

The assistant knew better than to question, her heels clipping on the marble she made for her boss. Every movement gentle, apologising profusely as she opened the door and tugged Asami stiff into her arms. 

Korra watched the exchange from afar, and strongly considered ducking out before Asami noticed her. 

“It’s okay,” she heard her say, and Korra felt the lie twisting in the pit of her stomach. “It happens,” 

Opal let out a wet laugh, holding her tighter. Asami was so kind, Korra remembered what it felt like to be on the receiving end of it. 

“I still have a job?” she joked, leaning back and swiping at her boss’ tears. Asami started to laugh too, only those who knew her knew that this wasn’t the happy one. 

“I need you to take over for a few days,” she sniffed, “I can’t,”

“I know,”

“Oh,” Asami recalled, “I had a meeting with Cab Corp at five what time is it?”

“I’ll go,” Opal assured her, looking above her head to Korra still standing there, cursing her ennui. “Korra?”

Korra’s body clenched everything that could be, her jaw, her fists, even her toes, arms folded. Sensing this Opal marched towards her, patting her arm.

“Get over your shit, she needs you,” muttering under her breath.

“You don’t even know what it is,” Korra seethed back, but the Assistant had already left, and Korra was already getting in the drivers side. 

No-one was more surprised to see her than Asami was then. Korra took the wheel, mostly so that she had something to do with her hands. Asami herself was doing very much the same cradling that book. 

Korra only snatched a look at her, dressed half way between work and casual, jeans and a button down and boots. Korra could imagine her pacing, lost, trying to come up with a plan and starting halfway between running away and going back to work. Her leather jacket draped over the back seat, like she was going for a drive, but the weight of driving her father’s unfinished masterpiece impeded her forward motion. 

Her eyes stung red with tears, making the jade of her iris striking as she looking back at her best friend.

“You found me, didn’t you?”

“I remember hiding here once,” Korra told her, lips numb, “I’d come looking for you and he was on the phone. He was talking about me…he didn’t like me, but he didn’t know I was there. _She’s too wild Yasuko…she’s no good for our daughter.”_ Korra’s smile turned grimace, her attempt to make light turning to ash quickly in her mouth.

Asami didn’t have a response, but simply glanced down at the white box between them.

“Sorry to speak ill of the…dead,” Korra winced.

“No, he wasn’t…good,”

“He could be, some of the time…on that trip. Remember when I set fire to my marshmallow and he said, _only the best smores have char,”_

_"like a fine steak…”_ Asami finished, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips.

“He could be a good dad, he was always looking out for you.”

“He did deplorable things.”

“I know.”

“He hurt so many people.”

“He did,”

_“Then why does this hurt so much?”_

Korra gripped the steel and leather beneath her hands to keep from embracing her, but Asami had already reached out instinctively.

“ _Careful_ ,” Korra warned softly, as her cheek met her shoulder, and finally, she let one arm loose to keep her upright against a small portion of her side.

“I don’t even know what to do with him,” his urn had found its way into Asami’s lap, balancing over her mother’s diary, “What cemetery would take him?” 

Korra looked down at her hands, timid in their hold of the little white box. 

It was then she remembered the gentle moan she gave her when those nimble fingers carded through the locks at the back of her head. 

She rescinded her touch, and threw her gaze anywhere else. For a car that wasn’t finished, it certainly looked polished and ready to drive, leather gleaming, fuel gauge full, keys in the ignition.

“Put your seatbelt on,” turning the keys, she was grateful the engine roaring to life. Say what you want about Hiroshi, he made a damn fine car. 

The storm hadn’t ended since Korra left days before. On and off, Republic City was doused in its famous down pour. Driving through the metropolis, to the outskirts and beyond, they fell into a tense, unyielding silence. 

Still Asami felt the sharp grief she felt for losing Korra fading, salved from simply sitting next to her. The angry rain patting on the window was soothing enough to have her body relaxing. She hadn’t slept since that day, and the relief was enough to let heavy lids close. 

This wasn’t what Korra was expecting when she imagined a reunion. Racing out of the city in a muscle car heading for half an idea she was forming in her head. Particularly with the shallow visibility the rain allowed. 

For the first time, an idea about how to move past her feelings for her best friend began to materialise, she would see her through this, and then Asami would have no choice but to let her leave in peace. The kiss was a mistake, there was no doubt in her mind, Asami was better off without her, she would use this trip to prove it. 

“ _Where’s Hiroshi?_ ” 

They were parked, and Asami flinched, waking, scanning foggy windows and an empty car seat. Korra had draped her jacket over her shoulders a while ago, now it pooled on her empty lap. 

“I put him in the glove compartment,” Korra’s face grew hot as she procured him from the latch, “I’m sorry…after a while I felt judged.” 

Asami pursed her lips and took him from her, before her eyes caught hers as though snagged. She gave a deep sigh.

“Korra, we have to talk about this.”

“No we don’t.” Korra’s voice sounded strained. “We really don’t,” it was hard to make herself heard over the din of the storm. 

“ _When I kissed you_ ,” Asami watched her slam her eyes shut and hackles raise, “it wasn’t a mistake to me,”

“ _Please_ ,” Korra begged.

“It felt like my first,” 

“I can’t do this.”

“I know,” Asami’s hand graced her cheek, soft and warm, “You’re a good person you’re not like me…I know I’m a mess, and I’m sorry I’m doing any of this…I just…” she shook her head, “I had to tell you…before it was too late.”

Korra didn’t move to push away her hand, her own two gripped firmly on the steering wheel as her oceanic blues gazed mournfully at her above the palm caressing her cheek. 

As though by a conductor the cacophony of rain came to a sudden stop. It was then Asami took a look out side.

“Banyan Grove,” Asami breathed. 

“ _The happiest hike on Earth_ ,” Korra quoted the sign they were parked next to weakly, before finding her door handle and ejecting from the car. 

She was already marching ahead, when Asami got wind of her intention, discarding the diary on the back seat and picking up the obliterated pieces of her father. The guilt of storming off seemed to get to Korra, and soon enough she fell back into step with her, hands deep in her pockets. 

“Isn’t this the off season? Are we even allowed to do this?” Asami asked, attempting less heart wrenching small talk.

“I don’t know,” Korra shrugged, “No one’s stopping us.” it should have been an omen that when she lunged over a log her foot almost gave way on muddy ground. Catching herself she reached to steady Asami by her arm, “Careful,” she warned again, before retracting her hand back.

Muddy tracks became stone became roots, something that enthralled Korra when they came here as kids. Miles and miles of obstacles to show off on, climbing, dangling, flipping to impress her best friend. As an adult she added the fear of breaking her neck onto the growing list.

After a while of painful silence, of reaching out only when she thought the grip of Asami’s boots couldn’t hold on, she spoke.

“You _are_ a good person,” Korra told her, looking up at the trees.

“What?” Asami asked, mostly to be sure it wasn’t the wind speaking to her. The way Korra was icing her out, it seemed more likely.

“Earlier, when you said I’m good, it made it seem like you didn’t think you were too,”

“Good people don't kiss their best friend if they love their husband,” Asami sneered sarcastically, aiming her loathing squarely at herself. “I guess it’s just one of the ways I’m like him, right?” She adjusted her grip on her father, wishing she’d brought a bag to hide him from her view.

“You’re nothing like him.” Korra told her firmly, stopping, looking up at her on the incline. “He wouldn’t care this much.”

“It doesn’t matter if I care,” Asami snapped, “I _did_ the bad thing, I _feel_ all these feelings I-”

“We can go back,” Korra interrupted, “we can stop, pretend we never… and stop speaking for a while,”

“Then we go back to being just best friends?”

“It’s less complicated than whatever this is becoming. Especially owing to you being in this _typhoon_.” Korra indicated toward the little white box and all it represented. There was no denying the shifting tectonic plates in Asami’s life, and when they settled, the complete mystery of where would it leave them.

Only Asami found herself shaking her head.

“I locked away those feelings, that anger, that _pain_ , and hid them in that house when I left it and I’m back and I feel alive. I can see, and feel, _everything_ again. I see the way you look at me K, and I’m looking back.”

“Right now, you can’t escape those feelings…” Asami’s heart was in her throat when Korra walked up to her, “but you didn’t have them last week,” and was without words when she walked right by her, “come on,” she barely heard it, turning to follow she saw that Korra refused to look back, “we’re almost at the top,”

Korra was eager to end their hike, and it showed in the distance growing between them. The great Banyan Grove Tree was up ahead, but Asami found her gaze drawn into its roots, and the memory of bandy legs hopping over them, and shaking young hands entangled as they helped each other up. 

It was the first time Korra had ever held it, way back when, not yards from where Asami now stood, and for the rest of the way up she had refused to let it go. 

“ _It’s not natural,”_ She could hear her father’s voice, huffing gruffly, followed by her mother’s.

_“It’s just a phase, I’m sure they’ll grow out of it,”_

Asami had a vague recollection, but like much of her childhood she’d repressed it. At the time she had done her best to concentrate on Korra, whom was less attuned to Asami’s parents concerned patter. Returning here seemed to bring it back in full force clear as day.

_“She’s infatuated with her,”_

_“Which one?”_

_“Both!”_ Hiroshi complained. “ _If we don’t do something soon ‘Suk, I fear for what life she’ll lead,”_

_“She’s a smart girl, whatever life she chooses will be a good one, I’m sure.”_

_“She’ll choose what we offer her.”_

“ _Hiro_ ,” Yasuko warned. 

_“Is that the top!”_ Korra had yelled happily, launching ahead, threatening to drag Asami with her until her father called for her.

_“Asami! A moment,”_ Asami wished she had been less dutiful, more rebellious, or had learned to follow her own whims. She of course went back for him. 

_“Dad?”_ her father kneeled in front of her, on her level, holding her shoulders square.

_“What does family look like?”_

_“Hiro,”_ Yasuko admonished, keeping an eye out for Korra blissfully unaware up ahead.

“ _It’s people you love_ ,” Asami answered honestly, instinctively gazing to whom she was referring, her father, her mother, and turning around to get a glimpse of Korra. Hiroshi turned her, his grip a little too tight.

_“No that’s not what I mean,_ true _family, it’s, it’s like the portrait in the den, remember? A mother and a father and their natural born children, it’s tradition, it’s what’s right, I need you to understand this.”_

At the time Asami didn’t understand, but she’d always tried to at least appear an exemplary student, so she nodded. 

_“Good girl, I want you to think of that painting as the blue print of your life, and save your hand holding for the_ man _who will complete yours,”_

Asami remembered finding it hard to swallow, but her only instinct led her to once again nodding. 

“Are you ready?” Korra’s voice knocked her out of her reverie, and the memories, as they came to the clearing. They were above the canopy of a deep and endless forest, and beside them the base of the trunk of the banyan tree loomed over them. 

She felt the weight of him heavy in her hands, looking down at the box, until Korra’s palms came under it and cradled it steady.

“He doesn’t deserve this.” Asami shook her head, resentment boiling in her stomach that he should be given a beautiful resting place, and be absolved. 

“This isn’t for him,” Korra told her, it was then Asami looked up, caught her gaze, held her there. 

Korra held the box as Asami opened it, unfurling the bag, staring down at the ash inside. The wind was already taking him. 

“It’s okay,” Korra assured her, and it gave her the courage to take a handful of remains and drain them over the cliff’s edge. 

After a handful, she took the box and kneeled, pouring her father over the edge, watching the updrafts take him over the treetops and farther away, and all the answers with him. On shaky, bandy legs she stood, lighter, emptier and clearer in her mind than she felt in days. 

After the hike they’d had she didn’t expect Korra to be stood so close beside her. She didn’t protest when Asami turned into her, and tucked her face under her chin in a hard, tight embrace. 

_“Thank you,”_ she uttered into her throat. Korra didn’t respond, but held firm, watching the last clouds of Hiroshi fall away over the horizon. 

It was then she felt a large, salty drop hit her eye, and another.

“ _Ah_!” she winced, “ _Again_?” 

Instinctively Korra grabbed a hand and began to drag her back down the trail with her. The downpour catching them despite their efforts to outrun the storm. It couldn’t help but become a chase, Korra attributed it to the serotonin coursing through her body that her lips found their smile, and Asami’s did too. They were soaked in minutes, and had many more to go before they reached the car.

“What’s the use!” Asami laughed, and it was the good laugh. They had come to a plateaux where the forest met lake, beside them a platform for boats to moor off. Abandoned for the off season.

“I didn’t dress for this,” Korra lamented, running her fingers through locks of wet hair. “Well don’t stop now! Let’s go,”

“Why? You don’t want to relive the good old days?”

“What?” Korra turned to face her, but Asami already had her hands prone, aiming for her shoulders. “Asami no-!” but she was already falling, clawing at Asami, yanking her quite unexpectedly down with her into the drink, waist deep and floundering until she found her grip on the deck.

“ _Why did you do that?_ ”

“What difference does it make? We’re already soaked!”

“Not my underpants! Hey…” Korra trailed off. Even through the downpour it was clear that Asami was staring at her, her expression had dropped into something far darker than the mirthful trickster that had pushed her in. The look she gave snatched her breath and locked her where she stood under that jade gaze. 

Asami waded close to her, chest to chest, hips to hips, 

“What are you doing?” Korra protested, softly, so that she herself could barely hear it. She was already raising her hands to her waist, and angling her head. “What part of the good old days was this?”

Asami guided her lips over her mouth, the press was gentle and tantalising, and while the rest of the world dropped its temperature and filled with the white noise of rain hitting water, they were their own fire, burning slowly, and building over time. It was softer than the last, more exploratory and tender. Caught off guard Korra gave in, enthralled with just how amazing it felt to kiss her best friend. 

“I don’t want to fight this,” Asami’s voice was small, her breath ghosting over Korra’s lips, Asami nosed her the corner of her cheek possessively, her fingers fisting the sides of Korra’s T-shirt.

_“_ There’s a reason you haven’t seen this _,”_ Korra whispered, as gentle as pillow talk, as though the world wasn’t rushing at them with icy sensation, “you wanted more than I could ever give you…if this is what you want I need you to be sure,” 

Asami’s hand came up to cup her jaw, her gaze enamoured with Korra’s mouth, she rose her thumb to trace its curve, stroking lovingly. 

“Before, when I felt nothing, I knew you were my home, _now I can’t stop shaking when I see you._ I’ve made mistakes Korra, kissing you is not one of them _.”_

Korra instinctively surged forward, kissing as firmly as the first time, feeling the tug of Asami’s fingers thrilling her at the back of her head. She was of two minds, battling all the while, dark, light, right, wrong, at the time she had a hard time distinguishing which was which.

“ _I can’t._ ” 

“I know,” Still Asami kissed the corner of her mouth, and Korra didn’t move to let her go, “Korra I-”

“ _Don’t say it_ ,” Korra opened her eyes, she was confused and desperate but this she was sure of. “Not unless you’re free to,”

Asami gave pause, inspecting her, the other two words trapped behind her teeth. She understood, and respected Korra’s reasoning. Nodding, she pulled her close, cupping the back of her head and guiding her cheek to her own shoulder.

The cock of a gun had them flinching and clinging tighter.

“The signs say _no trespassing,”_ said a wizened cantankerous voice.

Slowly they twisted to face the twelve gauge shot gun pointed their way, and the tiny, grey haired, silver eyed woman pointing it at them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mary - Big Thief  
> This is such a beautiful song, I wrote Korrasami kissing in the rain for this song. It is pain and trembling and love and just everything.


	9. Shut Up Kiss Me - Angel Olsen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song 1 - Shut Up Kiss Me - Angel Olsen  
> Song 2 - Feels Good - Julia Nunes

_Can my life get any stranger?_

Korra mused it with annoyance, and Asami’s own thoughts were along the same lines except this whole endeavour had left her in a dream like state.

Instinctively Korra placed herself between her best friend and the tiny elderly woman wielding a shot gun bigger than she was, and raised her hands.

“ _What are you doing in my swamp_?” she seethed.

“We came for the hiking trail,” Asami insisted in a worried pitch, bracing her hands over Korra’s flexing shoulders, ready to tug her out of the way at a moment’s notice.

“ _We don’t want any trouble,”_ Korra assured over the cacophony of torrential rain hitting water, hitting mud, drawing patterns in the dirt. 

“No? You didn’t hear about a weak old blind woman out in the woods alone in a storm and think it was a good time to ransack my property?”

“ _You’re blind and you’re wielding a shot gun?_ ” Korra screeched.

“I’m aiming at ya ain’t I?” to make the point she corrected her aim where her weakening arm had dipped it. 

“You’re Toph Beifong, aren’t you?” Asami asked, thumbs digging into Korra’s raising hackles to keep her calm.

“Whose asking?” her silver eyes narrowed.

“My father was Hiroshi Sato, we used to rent from you every summer, third cabin on the lake,”

“ _You’re related to that maniac!”_ Toph had the gall to look a little shaken.

“ _She’s nothing like him_ ,” Korra had a knee jerk reaction. 

“Ease back Louise, Thelma was talking,”

“He died,” Asami swallowed the hurt she was very much still processing, “We came here to say goodbye,”

“Oh that’s just _great_!” Toph scoffed, “Another pile of ashes for me to clean up! _Gross, you people are gross,_ ”

“The wind took him, look _lady_ , we’re on our way back to the city, just let us go and we can all get out of this rain!”

“Which city? Republic or Ba Sing Se?”

“ _Republic_ ,” the couple in the lake spoke in unison.

Toph lowered her shotgun and took to leaning on the barrel.

“Hmm, that’s a no go, storm took out some trees a little while ago over the main roads, traffic is backed up, you’ll be there all night,”

“We’ll take our chances.” Gun now gone, Korra pulled herself up on the deck and turned to brace Asami after her. 

“I do however have some dry sturdy cabins going for a good price…” 

“It would be nice to shower, and get warm.” Asami mused aloud and knew it was a mistake from the look Korra shot her. 

“I can’t,” Korra whispered it, only to her, clinging to her convictions by the skin of her teeth. 

“You want to just wait in the car in the freezing cold instead?”

“ _Asami_ ,”

“No Korra, _we’re not done here_ ,” Asami reached for her arm and gripped her wrist, before letting it fall to squeeze her palm. 

“I have to be,” it was all Korra could do, but shake her head and pull away, an out of body experience from the sheer lunacy that drove her to add, “I can’t keep doing this,”

“Shall we take this debate in the office where this weak old woman won’t freeze to death?”

“ _I’m staying,_ ” Asami told her, an edge cutting her voice. 

“Great!” Toph tossed her a key she was lucky to catch what with all the precipitation and tension in the air. “Might I interest the other one in a rental car?”

“ _Fine_ ,” Korra snapped, palming off the keys to Hiroshi’s super car to Asami without looking her in the eye. She didn’t know why her gut was boiling, she was doing the right thing, _she was doing the right thing!_

“What’s her problem?” the old woman questioned, gun swinging over shoulder that Korra was extremely wary of given that she was following her lead.

“ _She loves me_ ,” Korra snapped, thoroughly irritated. Why was it so impossible to follow the plan she’d made to the letter? Why couldn’t she stop herself from giving in when Asami reached for her? 

“Well it’s never too late to stay.”

“She’s married,”

“ _Congratulations_!”

“ _To_ _someone else_ ,”

“Nobody’s perfect.”

“You charge per person don’t you?” 

“I could have shot you!” Toph laughed, “But I thought about it and I have made the best out of it, a tenant! In the off season, who’d want to stay here when it’s wet!” 

“Yeah, you’re a real saleswoman,” Korra muttered. 

“Hey I’m no expert, but it seems to me you should consider taking an opportunity you can never go back to, trust me when you get to my age, you know it’s better to live without regrets, _or don’t,_ what do I care.”

_You’re right, you’re not an expert._

Korra thought twice about continually sassing a woman with a deadly firearm. Still the word, _regrets,_ batted around her mind frantic and unrelenting. Korra had lived with this regret for the last few years. Regret was her rising sun and waning moon. Regret tucked her in at night and kept her company, and for the most part, she hadn’t minded, because she had thought her best friend was happy.

“What cabin key did you throw her?”

***

Asami decided to save her tears for inside the cabin. Watching Korra all but run away from her into the forest had sobs already clawing their way out that took everything to tamp down. Shivering, clutching two keys, marching through the storm like a drowned rat on a mission, she began the short run to the first cabin she saw.

The key Toph had given her wasn’t a match. The little fob had only an embossed leaf to identify the house, useful only to the blind woman who ran the place poorly. She let out a frustrated screech and darted to the next one, slipping a little in the mud as the down pour raged and thunder clapped in the distance.

She groaned when the second didn’t work, she was really hoping for the third cabin it would fail too, alas when the key cut into the lock, it turned with ease. 

She made a show of slamming doors and shouting to punctuate them for no one in particular. Out of the deluge she could mop sopping locks out of her eyes and fought with leather boots that were surely ruined. She’d just whipped the last one to the ground when she lost balance and her spine came into contact with the porch door jamb. She let it carry her weight, and the events of the evening wash over her in a rush. She couldn’t blame Korra for leaving, if she could, she would leave herself too. She was marred by the mistakes of her past, of her father, of her own weak decisions. She’d let the best part of her life go utterly unnoticed.

For a moment, she remembered what it was like to be kissed by Korra. She let herself be seduced and tantalised by it, trying to recapture what it was to taste her lips and hold her so close. She’d have to memorise it, because Korra was gone, and likely never coming back.

The door she had viciously sealed, snapped open, only to be jammed by her boot’s toe. Standing straight she watched in fascination as Korra stepped in after her, closing the door, pushing out the fierce spray of a world in chaos outside. Rolling her jacket from her shoulders as though it were the only part of her that was soaked as ran her fingers to push her hair out of her eyes, and _god,_ her eyes, Asami had never felt so pierced by them before. 

A beat, and then Asami remembered found the will to move her lips, though they were numb at the sight of her.

“I thought you left,”

Korra pursed her own lips, give back stare open and honest.

“I can’t,”

“ _What do you mean you can’t-?_ ” 

“You were right. We’re not done here _,_ ” Korra cut her off, but with a serene, even tone that cut Asami’s intensifying temper in its tracks. 

“What’s left to talk about?” Asami questioned quietly, fingers playing nervously with the wood at her back.

“Nothing,” Korra shrugged, with that maddening half smile, all the panic and chaotic energy she had earlier was gone. Oddly, she was resolute and calm. Asami could only look into her eyes and remember an interesting fact about her best friend that she’d learned quite recently; Korra could entice, seduce and bed a woman without so much as speaking a word. Asami felt her core tighten as she took the smallest step towards her. 

Her movements were deliberate and slow, Asami almost left her body as a finger fed through her belt loop and gave a gentle tug, bowing her head with an almost smug skill, her lips closing over her pulse point, her teeth biting the skin. If Asami didn’t have the wall at her back she would have melted into the ground there and then. Her hand flew up to the jut of Korra’s jaw, her fingertips feeling it work that gorgeous mouth, if she had the intention to push her to stop, it quickly passed when lips grazed a nerve that had electricity firing behind her eyes. 

She let her press firm, wet kisses along the column her throat, all the while Asami’s own hand gripped Korra’s bicep tight, wringing her t-shirt still dripping and cold. Asami was mad at her, she had to stay mad, but how could she when lips and tongue suckled at the crux of her jaw? Asami's eyes rolled back into her head before she could stop it, no-one had ever made her body react like this before, no-one but Korra. 

It was with a whimper she realised Korra was pulling apart her buttons. 

If she turned her head just so, she could kiss her again, but partway Asami stopped herself. An errant thought occurred to her that she should stop this, that Korra may regret it, that she was outwardly cheating on a man her best friend was making her forget. A man that had never made her feel anywhere close to this.

There was a point of no return coming up, a time to stop and think and _talk_ through everything, over again, they still hadn’t crossed that line when - _oh._

She had a hard time knowing who moved first. Korra tugged down the lace of Asami’s bra, the hot muscle of her tongue suckling the peak of her breast. While at the same time, Asami had Korra’s wrist in her grip, and guided her hand past the clasp of her jeans. 

_“Fuck,”_ she breathed, Korra’s fingers pushing aside her underwear, her middle finger sliding over her wet slit, parting her, coating her digits and tenderly teasing her clit.

Fingers framing her jaw she bowed her head, kissing her hard, a bruising kind of kiss, to which Korra responded just as intensely, enthused and finally refusing to hold back.

She felt a loss when Korra pulled away, but resolved when she realised why. Her mouth reclaimed its descent, soon enough Korra was on her knees, tugging, even with coated fingers, on her jeans, lips tracing her naval. Peppering biting kisses on her hipbone as she exposed it guiding Asami’s feet to step out of her pants and her thighs, slick at their apex over her shoulders to brace her. 

Korra looked up at her, mapping the sight, before dipping her head and her tongue replacing her stroking fingers.

This wasn’t how Asami had imagined it, being eaten out standing in the shoe room of her childhood vacation cabin, but she’d be damned if she was going to stop it now. Especially since the digits playing at her entrance now filled her exquisitely which had her arching forward, nails clinging into Korra’s shoulder and hair, unable to stem the instinctive fluttering of her hips against her mouth.

It was no secret Korra had done this before, but the sheer speed she learned Asami’s body, what had her twitching, and whimpering, and crying out had to be some kind of record. Pumping shallowly her fingers found her g-spot it was all it took to drive her over the edge. Asami’s trembling became seismic shudders, a litany of curses and promises and prayers falling from her breath, arching her back and bearing down on Korra’s mouth as her tongue laved hard unrelenting circles. With a sudden lock of her spine she was at her peak, mouth open, balanced on the precipice, a single stroke away from tumbling over that edge. Asami had never felt more alive, until the flex of Korra’s jaw, suckle of her clit and curl of two burrowed fingers. 

She let out a cry that would only have been heard by the two of them, her eyes were closed, but Asami could guess that the rumble of thunder and flashes from the outside had timed perfectly for her.

Korra let her ride the high and carried her back down, numb toes finding the floor again, limp body shifting weight from Korra to the wall as she rose up to face her, chin shining.

When Korra was certain she could stand on her own two feet, the blades of her lips brushed the corner of Asami’s, her gaze dark and challenging, her fingers still between her legs, playing with her gentle and sure. 

“Is this what you wanted?”

There was no coming back from this. It would be like asking the dead to go back to sleep after having stolen that exquisite second chance at _life._ Asami knew then how damned she was, she’d make a thousand deals with the devil, if it meant kissing Korra one more time.

Asami tasted herself when she kissed her, and was surprised to find Korra’s response to be tender, and loving, cradling her cheek as she angled her head.

Pushing her backwards into the living room where countless families had spent summers making memories. Subtle initials carved in beams, throws and pillows waiting in darkness for their guests, a gas fireplace balanced and cold as drips from the storm out side tapped down the chimney. 

Korra’s mouth never left hers as her fingers skilfully pulled down leather, tossing Asami’s jacket into the neglected dark, her shirt tangled with it. She felt the ring on Asami’s finger, cold, reminding her that she knew exactly what she was doing. She also listened to the encompassing way her breath hitched when he hooked her hands under her thighs and lifted her. 

Her knees gave when they met the couch, and so it was that Asami was now mounting her with only a bra in disarray to cover her, while Korra was still in the wet clothes she arrived in.

“ _Take it off_ ,” Asami seethed, biting her lip, tugging at her shirt, “ _Everything_ ,” but Korra ignored her, unhooking her opponents brazier with her thumb and forefinger, tantalising her thigh with the tips of her fingers. 

Asami reached down and unhooked her jean button but stopped when Korra’s fingers found her clit again, mesmerised and somewhat annoyed that Korra didn’t seem interested in taking her turn. Asami sat back, blushing fiercely and finally bare to the world, but more importantly to her best friend. Korra stared at her, blue eyes a sea of calm she could get lost in, drinking her in, in return. 

“It’s your turn,” Asami complained, leaning forward, kissing her hard, but Korra could only smile helplessly into it, all the while her fingers slipped into Asami without friction.

“ _Korra_ ,” she whimpered, certain she couldn’t hold on for too long without coming again. Determined that she wouldn’t let the balance slip so unevenly as it had with her last partner, albeit in the other direction.

“Shh,” Korra hushed her, lips still touching Asami’s even as she spoke, “do you trust me?”

Asami froze, overwhelmed by the earnest affection in her best friend’s voice, combined with the way she filled her, one more digit than last time. She took a moment to respond, wherein she puckered her lips to kiss her softly, the wet sound of their lips parting reverberating through her ears, as she sank slowly onto Korra’s fingers. 

Her whimper was instant, cantering her hips and kissing her wildly until Korra’s lips found home over her chest, and set her attentions on a nipple she could suck, her free hand supporting Asami’s back and guiding her strokes. Asami gripped the wooden frame of the couch for something to tether her to this world, for it wasn’t long before Korra pulled a second earth shattering orgasm from her and fierce claps of lightning from the outside. _That can’t be a co-incidence._

_“Stop,”_

“Is something wrong?” before Korra could fear the worst Asami’s mouth was on hers. 

_“I can’t take it anymore I have to fuck you in a bed,”_

Korra laughed as Asami found her feet, bandy and melted, stumbling toward the master bedroom dragging Korra after her.

“How am I the only one naked?” She lamented, turning Korra into the room and stepping close. It was now she grew tense, as Asami’s fingers played with the hem of her shirt, and lifted it by running her palms up her sides, thumbs stroking stomach, ribs, grazing breast until Korra lifted it the rest of the way. She kissed her gently, slipping her the tongue as she finally seemed as awestruck as she had been the minute she had began kissing her neck. 

She let herself be kissed, as Asami unzipped her jeans and tugged them down for her, and fumbled with the latch of her bra, no less graceful than anything else she did, although it did admittedly take a little longer. There was a moment where neither touched each other, bare and cold and finally the same. Asami dipped her gaze to meet the old scars, long since faded on Korra’s belly and legs, to her dark nipples, new to her, begging to be caressed. Her thumb grazed its peak, before taking her into her arms and simply holding her close, peppering her cheek and neck with riotous kisses. She heard her laughing, _how long had it been since I heard that laugh?_

“Get into bed,” 

Korra stepped back and fell into it, never breaking her gaze, lifting the sheet for her to follow. 

Asami made the most of climbing up her body, cupping thigh with one hand and kissing it, her hip bone, her belly, sternum, settling and suckling her breast, satisfied to hear her partner unable to hold in a gasp. Asami played a game she liked to call _distraction,_ kiss her here, while her fingers played with her down here. She’d only ever touched her self, this was all the knowledge she had to go on, but her confidence was bolstered by the way Korra’s grip tightened on her arm as her fingers parted supple lips. _God,_ she was wet, her middle finger swept over twitching clit, as she planted her knee behind her hand, a pressure that had Korra’s back arching.

“ _How are you doing this?_ ” she breathed, mouth falling open as she felt Asami’s fingers sink into velvet walls, her thumb brushing clit. 

Asami’s mouth found home on Korra’s lips, free arm feeding under her shoulder to tangle in her hair, until eventually their foreheads balanced. Her hips between her legs, pressing against her hand, Asami rolled her hips experimentally, she’d never fucked like this before, but the way Korra’s eyes closed and mouth dropped in ecstasy was no incentive to stop. As she rutted and Korra’s hands splayed on her back, pulling her flush, their bodies entwined as intimately as she never been with anyone else, her eyes pressed into the curve of her throat, listening to her moan and gasp and finally fall apart. 

It became her mission to seek out those noises over and over again and memorise their pitch, their nuances, how Korra tasted when she made them. 

“It’s something sweet,” Asami told her, hours later, the storm has faded into a soothing trickle, a rainy early, _early_ Saturday morning to fool around in bed with nothing to do. She’d mounted her, and finally the great Ice Sculpting Surfing MMA Champion had been exhausted, as she was laid spread eagle on the bed as Asami kissed and tasted her neck, “Maple or…marzipan?”

“I knew you were a freak, but I didn’t know you were this kind of freak,”

“Korra, _you taste like desserts,_ did you know this?”

“No one’s ever mentioned it,” If Korra wasn’t pinned she would shrug, or pinch herself, because as Asami pressed her mouth to her collar bones in wet kisses she wasn’t sure she hadn’t died and gone to heaven.

“Maybe it’s pheromones…”

“Will you _stop_ ,” Korra laughed, sweeping her legs so she could turn and roll her. 

“MMA in bed Korra? Uncool,” but Asami didn’t mind when Korra began her own ministrations, lips tracing her jaw, teeth nipping her ear lobe.

“I know how’d you get so lucky,” 

It was then Asami felt the weight of what she had done, falling on her like a tonne of bricks, arranged in the shape of a piano on what once had been dangling on a long piece of unsnapped twine. She thought of Iroh, how crushed he’d be, how betrayed, she loved him, she must have, to have spent so much time with him, to have shared a life, even as passing ships in the night, the meals, the laughter, the parties, the _boredom_ , it all had to mean something but all in all she couldn’t deny how happy Korra was making her, it made it all seem so dull and fuzzy in the wake of it. That made it all so much worse. 

She took a moment to comb her fingers through Korra’s hair, concentrating on the way her body felt eclipsed over hers, and the weight and warmth she wanted to feel at that moment. 

“What do I do Korra?” 

Korra caught her meaning immediately, only her answer was not as expected.

“Which Korra are you talking to?”

“How many are there?”

“Best friend Korra would tell you to be smart about this, to really think about _who_ is right for you, in all of life not just sex…and she knows, it might not be me, but she’ll be okay with so long as you’re happy,” she felt her thumb soothing her jaw then, stroking rhythmically as Asami stared glassy eyed up to the ceiling.

“The second Korra?”

“The second Korra, is the Korra you just met… she wants you to run away with her, some where far flung, Fiji, Kyoshi, she’d have you sipping mai tai’s, getting a tan, and she’d make you come a thousand times, with my fingers and _mouth_ and well… until you forgot anything and everything that could ever make you sad,”

“And the Korra that loves me?”

Korra paused, she hadn’t said it, but it was out there. Asami felt the press of her lips over the salty tears that had fallen over her temple. Korra kissed her there, three times, and Asami’s lips quivered and thinned as she slammed her eyes shut.

“She can’t give herself to you until you know what you want. I can’t pressure you into making a decision. I can’t tell you how it would end with either one…you know how I feel, and I’m here for you…until I’m not.” it broke her heart to add the last part, but in the interest of self preservation she had to be honest. 

“So three,”

“Yeah, three,” Korra’s head sank into the pillow beside her, watching her tears fall as she steadied herself, taking solace in stroking the curve of her spine.

“You never let it show, hurting over loving me.” 

“It was enough to spend time with you, and not risk losing you,”

“And then I got married and you were what? Just going to leave without saying anything?”

“It didn’t pan out that way did it?”

“I’m your friend Korra, you could have told me how you felt I wouldn’t have been mad.”

“You sound kind of mad now,”

“Of course I am! Korra if this had happened five years ago we’d be on a completely different path, look at what we did tonight, I’ve never felt so - ugh!” 

Asami rolled away from her, out of bed, pacing with her head in her hands.

“I cheated on my husband and I don’t regret it because _I can’t say it- I’m going to shower,”_ she turned on her heel, and Korra was both mesmerised by her very naked best friend, and the fact that she was in the middle of a crisis. “ _That was an invitation_ ,” she yelled back, and Korra followed dutifully. 

She found her, palms cupping her face under the stream, tense, reeling. She tenderly pried her hands away from her face and kissed her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks.

“ _I’ve become my father,_ ” Asami’s voice broke, and her lip trembled.

“No you haven’t,” Korra had her wrists to keep her from hiding, “I’m not some secretary you decided to fondle after getting bored, it’s _me,_ Asami _,_ only me.”

“Why can’t this be easy?”

“You don’t have to decide now…we can pretend like we came here 5 years ago, for nostalgia, and we just knew what we were,” Asami felt the planes of her fingers curl lovingly beneath her jaw, it took everything to listen to her and not turn her head to kiss her palm. “after this I can give you your space, so you can make your decision. No matter what I’ll go on loving you all the same,”

Asami couldn’t look into her eyes, so blue and earnest, not as her shame enveloped her then. Korra seemed to know, and her arms pulled her so Asami could lean into her, and place kisses on her shoulder.

Asami knew this was the third Korra, her hand secure on the small of her back, the other combing her fingers through her hair. She let herself be taken care of, not that she deserved it. Mostly she was curious to see how far Korra would go for her. She felt a lather of bubbles massaging her back, and soon enough Korra had turned her, back to her front, carding shampoo into her scalp without a word. It wasn’t sexual, but it felt incredibly intimate, and had Asami weak in the knees to feel so taken care of, she couldn’t say how she remained upright because she felt like she was floating.


	10. She - dodie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song 1 - She - dodie  
> Song 2 - Ruin My Life - Zara Larsson

Korra woke first, hazy and warm, pressed under the weight of another naked human being. She had dreamed of this, though those imaginings had been much more taunting to her then. Baiting her with something she was sure could never _ever_ actually happen. In a way it still felt fitting, joyful, peaceful and devastating all the same. 

Sunlight bled into the room, threatening to meet where they lay, legs entangled together beneath the sheets, so close that it was difficult to discern if they were a separate entity. Asami’s cheek pinned her shoulder, her right palm splayed over her skipping heart. Even in sleep, the heiress had the good sense to keep her possessions under hand.

Korra couldn’t help but trace the jut of joints over her digits as she was sure they felt her quickening pulse. Drawing patterns between the knuckles and wrist as the minutes ticked by. She tried to centre herself in a stolen jewel of a moment; listening intently to birds chirping outside, wind whistling through the trees and Asami’s gentle breath huffing into her skin. Soothed by it she closed her eyes, not quite ready for this dream to yet fade.

Asami made tiny, wakeful noises at the back of her throat, tucking her nose back into Korra’s skin and inhaling. 

Korra froze, waiting for those jade eyes to open, for the ensuing scream, for her to sit bolt upright, realise her mistake and head for the hills. Only Asami didn’t wake completely. If she did she was completely content to turn her face into Korra’s skin and let her lips brush the expanse as she moved. Her own senses dulled to the point that everything she touched was silken to the pinnacle of softness.

She fed her fingers through Korra’s, and turning tugged her flush against her back, settling there and cradling the arm she’d ensnared for herself to her own chest. 

Asami’s heart was calm in comparison beneath Korra’s hand. Barely conscious as she pawed at her and ever her dutiful friend, Korra followed her lead. 

_I’m ruined for anyone else._

She remembered the shower, holding Asami drenched in her grief, passion and agony shaking against her, caring for her, loving her without words, because it finally felt so easy. Asami _knew._ Even without acting upon it a weight had been lifted from her soul. 

Korra moved now was she had then, reaching between them to tuck a lock of raven silk behind her ear, still pink at the tip. Asami hummed unconsciously in thanks, those slender fingers flexing between her own. 

_Let it be by her._

It was a dangerous thought, reflecting on how it would affect the rest of her life, whatever that was supposed to be now. Particularly _if_ , (more likely _when)_ this ended badly, but Korra couldn’t help but let the bliss make a fool of her, however temporary. Before she could catch herself, she had nosed the nape of her neck in settling behind her, inhaling fading notes of Asami’s expensive shampoo, traces of metallic rainwater, and the heady sweet scent Korra always seemed to recognise whenever her best friend entered a room. The tingle of down standing upright on her arms gripped her core, finally she had the wherewithal to ease back and stop sniffing her friend like a lovesick basset hound. 

Korra came face to face with a nest of hickeys she’d left on Asami’s neck, bloomed purple and pink overnight.

Instantaneously she relived all the kisses at once, the soft ones, the _hard_ ones, the biting of her lip and combing of greedy fingers through her hair. Korra couldn’t believe herself, the confidence, the bold, brash, bravery that must’ve belonged someone else entirely. The bizarre courage she’d had to walk over to her best friend and start to undress her, to slip her hands into her clothes and take her into her mouth and just as insanely Asami reciprocating so urgently with the arching of her back or rut of her hips against her chin. 

Korra played back the new breathy sounds escaping the back of her throat as though she’d recorded them. She heard the secret way she whispered Korra’s name quietly hoping the din of the storm would cover her tracks. The way her twitching thighs quivered, clamping beside her ears as Korra’s tongue lashed her swollen nub, and her fingers, knuckle-deep pulled her to climax. 

Korra blushed hotly, her nerve endings on fire, and the press of Asami into her front wasn’t helping. _We’re having an affair._ She rubbed her face with her free hand to quell the rush of memories. She thought of Asami’s fingers, how they’d slipped inside her, frictionless and slick. _I deserve what happens next._

Gently she extracted herself, scooting back, self conscious, sulking and overwhelmingly turned on. She twisted her hands beneath her cheek and prayed for sleep. 

Guilt paraded a procession of disappointed faces behind her eyelids. 

Her parents didn’t raise her this way, to cheat or to love women, but here she was two for two. Kya taught her being herself was more important than anything, and no doubt this, in those proud eyes, was a regression; Korra stepping back into a different closet. Albeit with much more pleasant company. 

Iroh, the poor schmuck, she may have loathed the very core of him but at the same time the shot had already been fired, destined to hit him. He was the only innocent party, and therefore not deserving of it, no matter how much Korra rationalised. There was no way to take back the bullet, and Iroh was due to be blown away any day now. She knew from experience what it was to love Asami, she also knew what it was like to have her hands around your heart. She thought she knew what it was to have her love unrequited by her, but in light of recent events, she had began re-evaluating fact from her own imaginings. 

She almost flinched when Asami found her way back to her. A pleasant twinge in her chest when she realised her best friend was still sleeping as she sought to burrow her face firmly beneath her jaw. Korra’s breath falling out of her as she curled into her. 

Korra had no choice but to wrap her up in her arms, and hold her closer than before. Not that she thought Asami would notice, clearly she sleeps like the dead and is possessed by one that keeps reaching for her quite inexplicably. 

Whatever self preservation Korra had been eviscerated with those unconscious moves. 

The sun rose higher into the sky, and its light through the window warmed their feet.

Asami had never had a morning such as this. 

For once there was no where to rush, no one expecting her to run the show, and someone who loved her enough to clutch her close while she slept. When they sidled into bed, naked for the first time, they were achingly shy, conservatively hiding beneath taut chest sheets, but in the night their bodies entwined naturally. Asami woke finally to the unusual taste of Korra’s supple throat pressed against her mouth. She’d never slept so close to anyone before, even if they lay in each others arms, she would find herself escaping from Iroh’s oppressive body heat as soon as she was able, but Korra’s warmth was alluring and comforting and she was utterly drawn to bask in it. To touch it. Taste. Smell. Kiss. Sleep. Breathe. Before Korra could get away.

The soft rise and fall of her stomach fell in tandem with her own, her body perfectly lined up. Her partner didn’t seem to notice when she reared back just enough to gaze at her sleeping face.

Korra’s features slack, temple resting on her knuckles against the pillow, and her arm settled, crooked beneath Asami’s waist and palm firm against the curve of her spine. 

Jade eyes caught the path of a trail of mouth shaped bruises that descended her throat. A smarter woman would have felt anything other than pride at the sight of them, but Asami was enamoured that Korra’s dark skin could even be marked, and she herself had made them. _I was here, she is mine. Let people see even if they don’t know it._

Her fingers are drawn to tracing them with feather light touches before she can catch herself. The prints where she had suckled and bit her were like landmarks on a map of where she might follow once again. _She’s gorgeous up close._ She noted her angled cheek bones, her expressive brows gentle and calm for once, and her plush lips mere inches from her own. Asami now knew from experience they felt every bit as perfect as they looked pressed against her skin. 

Korra had always been so skittish this close to her, hiding in hugs or polite steps back or simply turning her face. Now in sleep she could be admired, and Asami wondered if she’d have realised her feelings sooner if she’d gotten the chance to really look at her best friend with all her guards down. Her hungry fingertips grew bold, cradling her jaw, thumb arcing her cheek, brushing the corner of her lower lip. 

She couldn’t say it yet, she’d made a promise to her best friend, but she traced the words into the air and angles of her face, through the tender tangle of her fingers in that feather-soft pillow dried hair.

Beating on the door had her flinching, spell now broken her whole body tensed. She sought home in the only place she could, bracing her forehead against Korra’s temple. She feared her husband had found them, but as the knocks rang out and a minute ticked by, knowing his tenacity by now he would have already burst in. She eased, and without thinking she kissed Korra’s forehead, once, twice, a third time if only to languish in the sound of it. Thumb in her hair stroking over her ear lovingly before sitting up and turning her bare back to Korra.

Blue eyes were already open and alert, but she had made a point of hiding her wakefulness from Asami. Since waking the first time Korra never went back to sleep. An old trick from a miserable time. She’d hoped by pretending she would actually fall under, but in Asami’s fits of tugs, noises and wandering hands she couldn’t help but be yanked deeper into this now living ludicrous fantasy. Heart pounding uncontrollably the entire time. 

When Asami was clearly awake and stroking her purposefully, she doubled down on that pretence, curious and terrified of the expression she’d find if she opened her eyes.

Her heart felt that special kind of ache when she watched Asami pull on her t-shirt. Watching those long alabaster legs pour out of it as Asami combed her fingers through her hair to make it look less mussed. Untucking it from the collar and spilling over her shoulders quite beautifully.

“I ain’t running a homeless shelter!” came a cantankerous, furious voice.

Asami took a moment to gather her thousand thoughts and organise them in a pattern that could respond to this. 

“I’ll go get my purse.” Asami turned, scooping her hair nervously behind both her ears, blushing hotly, palming the hickeys she’d spied in a mirror, lips curling in a deceptively proud smile. 

“Hurry up I ain’t got all day!” Toph snapped. Biting her lip she narrowed her search to find it in the throng of thrown clothing, her jacket along with her shirt and bra had been cast in a direction that she hadn’t paid attention to what with Korra distracting her.

“Wait!” Korra emerged, enrobed in only bedsheets like a tousled roman goddess, also instinctively hiding her nakedness from the blind woman. Asami was once again distracted, as Korra focused on her jacket still hung on the door. Unfurling her wallet and a wad of notes she pressed them into Toph’s waiting hand.

“Can we get breakfast?” Korra asked.

“Yourselves!” Toph chimed, feeling the notes and worth with knowing fingers. “I’ll need a name for the ledger.”

Korra handed her more notes. 

“Another hundred, and you forget the names.” 

“Enjoy your three nights at the Banyan Lodge, Mrs Nunya and Business!”

“Something better than that,” Korra chided, “Nunya and Smith. Just passing through, caught in the storm,” Korra paused as Asami’s arms snaked about her waist, lips pressed onto to her exposed bare shoulder, “Decided we wanted to stay a bit longer.”

“I didn’t ask for your life story,” Toph grumbled, secreting the money in her clothes and pottering down the steps as though embarking down another mountain, “There’s a diner, a ways down, and store in town, self catering, yada yada,” 

“Just- if anyone asks you didn’t see us,” Korra called after her.

“ _I’m blind ain’t I?_ ” Toph seethed and spat. Korra winced as she gave the door a gentle push. 

“I’m an idiot,”

“It _was_ a poor choice of words,” Asami rubbed her bare arm assuredly only to stop. A nervous air settled upon them as their lucidity settled. They’d slept together. They weren’t supposed to. Where did that leave them? 

It seemed a poor solution to a complicated problem, but the best Asami could come up with was _kiss her again._

_“I um,”_ Korra started, pursing her lips, “How are you feeling?”

_Do it, it would be so easy!_

“I’m fine, I’m okay, I enjoyed…last night, and um,” she knew how red her cheeks were, she knew she should be feeling shame and regret but ultimately she just wanted to do it all over again, “this _morning_ ,”

“Me too,” Korra surprised herself by saying it, she was also struggling to school her features, her half smile bigger than ever, a three quarter smile. It was typical Korra to not let herself indulge too long, “We should talk,”

“I thought there wasn’t anything left to talk about,” Asami half teased, half jabbed, sadness settling upon her.

“There wasn’t then…” Korra cleared her throat, “It was all I could think about, coming back, doing what we did…”

“Me too,” Asami conceded, stepping back into the lounge, eyes falling to the spot where Korra had undressed her as she passed it. “In here?”

“ _No_ ,” Korra spied the couch, and knew there wouldn’t be enough space between them to really focus. Asami’s lips turned up at the corner, and she led her back into the bedroom, taking a seat on the pillows. Korra perched awkwardly at the foot, a far cry from the way they’d curled around each other moments ago.

There was a silence, not knowing where to start, until Asami asked.

“You paid for three more nights?” 

“I just gave her some of the money that was in my wallet, I didn’t know how long it would be for, I just wanted her to go.”

“So you weren’t planning on…carrying on.” Asami sounded a little deflated and Korra looked up at her pleadingly.

“I wasn’t planning anything, not without this, talking” she gestured between the two of them, wetting her lips “I’m stealing you, we’re _cheating_ ,”

“That’s why you gave her fake names,”

“I’ve seen enough soap operas to know how this goes,” Korra chagrinned and Asami hummed looking down at her hands fiddling with Korra’s shirt. She flattened her sweating palms on the front after tugging on a thread she shouldn’t have, hoping Korra wouldn’t notice.

“Why did you have so much money liquid?” it wasn’t an important question, but Asami was dancing around the real issues. 

“I was going on a trip remember.” Asami pursed her lips, she did remember, and she added it to the pile of all the things she’d ruined for Korra, “I was going to try and get over you,”

“ _Oh_ ,” it socked her in her chest, and Asami’s eyes magnetised to Korra’s gaze. “And now?”

“I’m under you,” Korra almost smiled wistfully, “which admittedly is a lot better than before…but the position you’re in now, I need to know what you’re thinking. Where does this fit in with your plans-“

“What plans?”

"The portrait,” Korra said quietly. 

“ _Fuck_ the portrait.” Asami seethed softly, “That man was poison,” she said it to no-one in particular, but Korra was there, and studying her all the while. “I guess I am too,”

“You’re not,” Korra reached with the hand not clinging to her bedsheet toga, and her fingers sent shivers from the ankle she touched all the way to her inner thighs. Asami tensed, but didn’t pull away, “You’re going through so many difficult things right now, no one can blame you for making a mistake,”

“You’re not a mistake,” 

Korra could only purse her lips and take a breath.

“We’ll see,”

A phrase that could be carved in a special place in hell.

“This isn’t out of the blue Korra,” she snapped, “I didn’t just see what you felt and thought it would be fun to vacation on the isle of _Lesbos_ ,”

“Considering how your last vacation went I wouldn’t blame you,” Korra surprised herself at the remark, but was astonished that Asami was even speaking to her like this, full of anger and passion, her every word rooting her to her spot.

“I couldn’t relax for a single second on my _honeymoon_ ,”

“That’s what happens when you pick a place with an _active volcano-”_

“I couldn’t stop thinking about _you,”_ Korra’s nervous air stilled, watching her intently, her every facial expression, the cut of her jaw, the set of her shoulders, easing slightly, every word a confession, “In the shower, when I tried to _sleep_ , in couples massages, lying on a beach, smoke filling the sky-I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and the _women_ you were sleeping with, and kissing and _holding,”_ she closed her eyes, “and your _face,”_ she breathed, “when I left you at my wedding, it still haunts me, and now I know how you feel about me and I hate myself for putting you through it, _”_

The words sat there between them, and Korra listened with her face pinched, it was everything she’d ever wanted to hear, but in reality it was tearing her up inside. 

“You did this because you were jealous?”

“These feelings have always been there I just didn’t know what they were,” 

“But you made a choice,” Korra struggled with her voice, “him not me,” 

“I can _unmake_ it,” she watched a tear escape and fall down Asami’s cheek, begging to be caught. 

Korra bit her lip and looked up, away at anything else. 

“I don’t believe you, I can’t,” someone said, it was Korra, but her voice was so strained she could hardly recognise herself. She had flung herself out of her body to survive only to return to Asami’s solid kiss, she’d pounced and straddled her lap, exasperated and desperate to make her see. To get back to where they were. “ _Fuck_ ,” Korra whispered into her mouth, dropping her grip on her toga to cup bare hips and dig her thumbs in, tongue sliding with hers deep and dancing. 

She wanted to pin her, to spread her legs and improve upon the night before, but instead they straddled that line, biting kisses and clinging too tight, and going no further.

When it all became too much, Asami balanced her forehead over hers to catch her breath and could see the wheels turning in Korra’s mind. Her grip softened, and so did her gaze.

“Your father just died,” her voice was tender, chest heaving as she brought herself back down to earth with the memory of Hiroshi, “You’ve just been given your mother’s ghost house, and your husband isn’t there to support you…but I’m here, and it’s clear you’ve got some _feelings_ ,”

Asami let out a noise that could have been interpreted as a laugh. 

“And I’m willing to keep this secret with you, and after go back to the way we were, or close to it,”

“ _No_ ,”

“If you mean it you have to leave him, you have to do it right. Spend time, do it for the right reasons, _study your feelings,_ because if you don’t I’ll always wonder if it was me you wanted, or just latching onto me because _you’re in pain_ , and it’ll break _us_ ,”

“ _Korra_ ,” Asami cupped her cheeks. 

“ _Please_ ,” Korra kissed her this time, lips soft and pliant, “You can’t give me hope like this, you have to think about him too,”

The last time Asami spoke to Iroh it was in deflection, and anger, but she as far as she knew he didn’t deserve it. In her screaming mind the only thing that could calm her was Korra’s skin against her own.

“I don’t want to hurt you, or him,” it was honest, but Asami felt so childish saying it.

“You already have,” Korra’s voice was oddly soothing, “it’s done now, we can manage it,”

“How are you so calm?”

“I just want you to be okay,” 

“I haven’t been okay since I was sixteen…god last night is the first time I’ve relaxed since…ever,” Asami pressed her eyes into her neck for comfort, arms crossing behind her shoulders for balance as she reeled from the rollercoaster they’d just been on. “Can we stick to plan A?” Asami pressed, “Keep pretending,”

Korra took her hands, teary eyed, and kissed her knuckles. 

“I think you need it,” she laughed, feeling a little hysterical. One night had become three, and there was almost too much wild happiness bubbling up inside her to bear. 

Asami leaned back to kiss her, only her gaze dropped, inspecting Korra’s naked body out of her fallen sheet and back up, jade eyes smouldering. 

“You’re naked under that robe,” 

“So are you under my shirt,” 

Every graze of skin from then on had them twitching, bolts of pleasure coursing through them that had spines straightening. They were both raw and hypersensitive to every touch however gentle. The room was spinning as Korra’s fingertips draw up from the ankle she had been holding, to the nerve endings exposed on her inner thigh. 

Korra had a way of knowing secret sensual spots on Asami’s body, her lips pressing light kisses on the crook of her arm somehow had her heart pounding in her ears, and her supporting hand at the nape of her neck drew circles that loosened every muscle. 

Something snapped when Korra dug her nails into Asami’s thigh and her core clenched, cupping her face and devolving into hot deep kisses. The mattress comes up to meet her back as the world turned, and Korra’s fingers part her lower lips, swiping her swollen clit as her wetness quickly builds. She was dripping by the time Korra sinks her fingers past her entrance, three, curling. 

Asami’s moan is guttural, stemmed only by Korra’s mouth firm against hers. She tries keep quiet if only to listen to the obscene noises Korra’s palm and fingers are making inside her. Korra’s knee braces behind her hand and she grinds against it, eyes rolling back, the base of her spine curving up to get her to hit _that spot_ with more force. 

When her first orgasm hits her, knees spread and high as they can go, quivering, spine curving low and body jolting with every hard stroke, Asami can only clutch Korra close, and whisper filthy obscenities in her ear between each wave, until she can take no more and she literally taps out. Korra would have laughed if she wasn’t so serious about fucking her married best friend.

_“Get on your back,”_

Asami’s suspicions had been confirmed, sex with her best friend was just incredible. It made her want to give her everything in return, if only her body wasn’t such a distraction. Korra always smelled good, dragging her mouth down the side of her neck, inhaling that addictive sweet scent. She had no business being this delicious, and she couldn’t stop from kissing lazily down her body. The worship seemed to pay off that when she settled between her thighs even the slightest brush had her muscles clenching as her breathing trembled.

“ _Asami_ ,” she meant it as so many things, an urging, a warning, that she didn’t have to do anything she wasn’t ready for. Only then did blue eyes meet the green eyes giving her that smouldering look above Korra’s small thatch of black hair, determined. Korra keened when she felt the wet hard muscle of a pointed tongue circle her clit. Her fingers fed into Asami’s hair and the other hand entangled with hers on the mattress. Korra’s hips fluttered against her mouth, desperate for more friction and Asami gave it to her, working her tongue flat, using her lips, her fingers slipping in using her grip on her hand to pull herself up and into her.

“Ah!” Korra’s shoulders lifted off the pillow, riding Asami’s face in slow hard strokes as her body wracked in climax. Asami kept going, unrelenting, pushing Korra over that edge again and again, until finally she had to pull her up and kiss her draped across her chest. They kept going, trading turns, until arms and jaws burned with the effort, in their minds knowing one of these could be the last time.

Their stomachs growled angrily, the sky was growing dark and neither of them had eaten since yesterday morning. 

Asami gave up Korra’s shirt with considerable protest, only if Korra wore hers it was likely one wrong flex could send the silk sleeves splitting. They made a show of dressing each other, if only to maximise the amount of time skin could be against skin. Korra had to admit even she hadn’t had much experience kissing while buttoning _up_ jeans. 

Walking to the car Korra kept her hands in her pockets, but with it at least a ten minute walk away she experimented, and dropped the hand between them. Not a second later Asami’s fingers were knotted between her own.

The aforementioned diner was an oasis of neon and pie off the main road, overlooking Gao Ling. A few patrons sipped coffee, and didn’t seem to notice them, but it was enough being in public to make Korra drop Asami’s hand before they entered. 

“ _I cannot believe my eyes,_ ” The pair seize up at a waiter gawping past them, it takes them a second to realise he’s enthralled by the car. “Is that _the_ Hiroshi Sato Prototype that went unfinished due to his untimely arrest!” he all but squealed, and Korra felt Asami begin to close her self off. Arms folded. 

“It is,” she muttered.

“You will get the _best_ table, here, I just cleaned,” he guided them down, “I am such a _gear_ head, I tell you the message boards will go nuts when I tell them I’ve seen this _car_!”

“I can see,” Asami said tightly, feigning politeness, feeling a stress headache bloom in her left temple.

“I have a camera in the back, if it’s okay can I?”

“Fine, I don’t care,” she shrugged, sliding in the booth without stopping to watch him pump his fist. 

“But of course!” he remembered himself, “What can I get you?”

“A couple of menus would be nice,” Korra said, flashing charm and a single dimple. When she slid in beside Asami she didn’t feel her tension ease, hiding a hand under the table she squeezed her knee. “We could go somewhere else.”

“No, it’s fine I’m starving,” 

_We’ve been working up an appetite,_ Korra clamped down on the instinct to flirt, sliding her hand back and leaning back into the seat. 

“For someone who’s only had one affair you seem to be familiar with the rules,” Asami whispered conspiratorially, and Korra tugged at the back of her neck.

“Two,” she shrugged, “June, but I didn’t know it.”

Asami took it on the chin, feeling weak and needing affirmation, she balanced the menu on the table to hide them from the view of the restaurant, and offered her hands over the table. Korra heaved a breath, and then took them. It felt far more intimate than it looked, their slotted fingers stroking from knuckle to tips and back down again. Asami’s thumb massaging Korra’s palm. After a moment it felt downright salacious. 

“We should make rules,” Korra added, “After everything I don’t think be able to stop myself from kissing you while we’re alone.”

“Why can’t we be alone?” Asami’s tone was so tender and quiet Korra was transported back in to bed.

“You know why,” Korra smirked, albeit sadly.

“Decisions,” Asami hummed, fingernail digging a little crescent onto Korra’s knuckle. 

“Opal still think’s we’re fighting, that should help with the questions,”

“What are we fighting about?”

“Ah,”

“What?”

“Opal knows how I feel,”

“Oh,”

“She figured it out, don’t be mad,”

“I’m not mad,”

“You sound mad,”

“ _What else?_ ”

“What was our last fight about?”

“Mako,” an errant laugh escaped Asami then.

“It can’t be that again…me leaving, I’m thinking about making it permanent,”

“ _What_?”

“There it is, our fake fight,” Korra gave a triumphant half smile, partly because she’d found the answer, partly because Asami was so abhorred by the idea.

“Will you? If this goes badly,” Asami asked in earnest, and Korra felt like she’d snookered herself.

“I don’t know,”

“ _What_ can I get you ladies?” They snatched their hands apart and Korra took the menu as the waiter encroached upon them. 

“Pancakes.” Korra read the first item and felt it was good enough.

“I’ll have the same.” Asami just wanted this waiter to evaporate. When he was gone she lifted the menu again, for a semblance of safety as she worried over their next steps. “So I just won’t see you after this? For how long?”

“As long as it takes for you to know, even with the group I’m not sure I can act right around you,” 

“So it _is_ better if we meet alone,”

“ _Asami,”_

_“In public,”_

“I don’t know, can we please just, keep pretending, we have just over two days now, I can’t…” she closed her eyes, temple throbbing, clamping down on those errant emotions that would have her cry in a roadside diner. “You need space to do this, and maybe I do to,”

She was surprised by Asami’s palm smoothing hair out of her face.

“Okay,” her fingers fed between hers, “We’ll try it your way,” she kissed her forehead, her closed eyelids, “I just want…” She trailed off kissing the corner of her mouth, “I just want.” she repeated. 

“I know…Me too,” Korra took the hand that cradled her, and sealed their fingers together under the table, taking everything she had left of her strength to wrench herself away from her, waiting for their food to come. 

“What is he doing?” Asami found her eyes drawn to the waiter outside, scooting around the car low like a crab with a camera, capturing low angles. Binds around their ribcages shook loose as they laughed freely at this maniac. 

It was only after their late brunch, when Asami was out on the deck on the lake, picnic blanket beneath her lap, and Korra’s head on top of it, did she consider that the waiter had potentially been in the right place at the right time to snap an incriminating expensive picture of the two of them. She ran the timings in her head, he was out there for a while after she'd noticed him, hopefully hadn't been there for as long beforehand. It didn't seem worth freaking Korra out much more than she already was. 

By the lake the serenade of crickets, trickling water and fireflies were too beautiful to resist, and as it got darker it seemed only fitting to spend their time lazing about like runaways.

“What would you call me?” Korra distracted her in that moment, Asami’s fingers paused their combing through her hair to gain her meaning, “Your mistress? Concubine?”

“My bitch?”

“Fuck you!” Korra retorted laughing, sitting up, leering at her petulantly as she balanced on an arm sculpted by gods.

“No Korra, fuck you,” Asami gripped her shirt and kissed her quick, “take your clothes off.”

“Really Asami? On the deck?” As much as Korra feared splinters she was already pulling her shirt over head. Dropping trou with a surprising efficiency.

“Skinny dipping,” Asami explained. 

“What no!” But Asami had already pushed her back off the platform, Korra had a good second of balance arms akimbo, before falling. Asami joined her with a much more elegant dive. 

“I’m really getting sick of your shit,” Korra sputtered, only to be caught like a deer in headlights as Asami swam closer to her, hair slicked back and shining like a siren. She felt her naval touch her own first, bodies meeting in the clear water, her hands warm and welcome and terrifying at once. Her whole body felt alight, burning low and hot in her chest, and for a moment before she could crush it, Korra thought of how painful it would be to have this feeling extinguished. 

She was playing at love with her best friend, trying not to worry when the show would end.

“I just wanted to live out another fantasy,” Asami told her, lips fluttering over her own as she spoke. 

“Get it while you can,” Korra seethed half heartedly, enthralled by the gentle brush of her nipples against her own, their legs tangling in the water, and the waves pushing her at her back, making kissing her best friend inevitable.


	11. Oh Heart - Tank and The Bangas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Heart - Tank and the Bangas  
> Succulent - be stead well

Sometime in the night Korra had nestled into Asami’s shoulder, a tentative hand splayed on her stomach above the sheets. Asami’s heart hurt a little, she knew that Korra spent her days holding back, but that morning she was reminded she had been chosen by her a long time ago. 

_Korra can do so much better than me,_ she thought, _she deserves someone open and free and just so beautiful… like her._

When she was sure it wouldn’t wake her, she pressed soft lips to her forehead, fingers gentle on her nest of ruffled chestnut coloured hair to keep her close. Asami hadn’t the urge to rouse her, nor to slip away, something that came as a surprise. She had never thought of herself as an intimate person, nor sentimental, she certainly hadn’t been with Iroh. For the first time she hadn’t felt trapped, and found herself savouring waking up under a perfect body. Try as she might to stay in the moment, she couldn’t help feeling antsy, as the minutes crept past, her mind kept wandering in to dark and unwanted spaces. 

At the time she considered it lucky she’d brought the book in from the car, if only to keep it safe and near on the bedside. With one hand she balanced it open, but without the other to turn the pages, she found herself reading her mother’s diary at a random passage. Again, Asami was reminded she was doing something she shouldn’t, but something in the warmth of Korra pressed beside her, and the sure and certain knowledge her father would hate everything her life had become, there was so much more to be gained by taking what she wanted, consequences be damned. What was one more sin to add to her list?

As she scanned the loops and letters, she could almost hear her mother speaking the words, with her tender cadence and inflections. A warm excited dread bloomed in her chest as Yasuko’s presence returned to her in this small way. As though she were waiting in the next room for the pair to wake from a sleepover. 

Korra’s breath hitched in her sleep, and without thinking Asami’s fingernails scratched her scalp soothingly as she read. She settled, and Asami found Korra’s name amongst the scribble. 

_July 30th 1987_

_Asami has found her match in strong will and tenacity. If only Hiro wouldn’t panic so. His intensity worries me. On the drive home they slept on the back seat draped over each other like cats, but I catch my husband glaring at them through the mirror as though he’d gag at the sight. I find wondering if it would be so terrible, but Hiro insists upon the legacy, the dynasty to be passed on, but what does it matter if she is happy?_

_I’m sure whatever happens, it’ll all be fine. I will write it, and it’ll be so. It can’t be denied, Asami fawns over Korra like no other. More than once I’ve caught them staring, before giggling and going about their merry way… I hope for the sake of her father I’m wrong, but I would say that this is my little girl’s first crush._

The hand that propped the book turned weak and lowered it on her chest. She wasn’t aware of tears that had leaked until Korra, disgruntled and sleepy, kissed them away from her temple.

“What is it?” her voice husky, she’s turned so their cheeks grazed as she spoke into her ear. 

Asami had repressed swathes of her childhood, one of the things she had been certain of remembering was Korra, she was still here after all, proof that some of her childhood had been happy. Clearly she’s miscalculated by just how much. 

“Nothing I can tell you now,” Her lips brushed her hair line as she spoke, and her fingers traced the nape of her neck playing with strands there.

Korra hummed, noncommittal, and Asami felt her body shift atop her own with the weight of the breath and sound reverberating through her. Asami craved more weight and more sound, but said nothing, the quiet here and now a place she wanted to stay, rather than open her mouth and make things worse. 

“I’d offer to make you some tea but we didn’t bring anything with us.”

“We didn’t exactly think this through did we?”

“We could go back,” Korra whispered this time, as though she didn’t want the thought to be shared. 

“You promised me three nights,”

Another hum, this time Asami felt it echo in her own chest, low in her belly and back up. 

“Better go shopping then.” Asami felt a loss as she pressed herself up and turned from the bed. “Ugh,” Korra rubbed her face, biting her lip.

“What?”

“Our clothes are still on the deck,” 

Korra’s outfit had been the only one to survive a night outside. Asami’s jeans and shirt had been a drift in mud and lake water, meaning Korra would have to venture in Gao-Ling alone. When Korra opened the door to leave Asami snagged her wrist and guided her mouth over her own. 

Korra turned into her and angled for a deeper connection Asami lost her breath. When they parted she struggled with her words at the sight at that smug three-quarter smile.

Asami cleared her throat.

“Hurry back,” Asami blushed as her voice broke, squeezing the sheet tighter over her chest as she watched her go.

For a moment she worried after her, Korra had a tendency to lose it a little when she was on her own. She hoped her task would distract her enough, and sought to find one of her own. She found the sodden pile of the jeans and shirt in a clump at her feet and picked them up.

_This shouldn’t be too hard._

She recalled the feint memory of a laundry room tucked behind the bathroom, of her mother misremembering how to use one of these newfangled washing machines, and her father insisting on making it more efficient. Neither could seem to figure out how to turn it on. Asami had watched with bemusement at her parents, rendered helpless after years of being served, when Korra sidled in awkwardly loaded the washer, plucking the white clothes aside, poured in soaps and started the cycle. 

The trio had stared at her, and she grinned, grimacing, pulling at her neck in that adorable nervous tic.

“ _My mom makes me do chores.”_ she’d explained. 

_“Perhaps Asami should do chores too,”_ Yasuko had balked, and Asami’s smug smile dropped as she glared at her best friend, before her family had devolved into laughter. 

In the present, Asami watched the drum begin turning as the machine hummed to life. Tears irritated her cheeks, she swiped at them, feeling loss acute yet existential. She’d spent all this time being numb so she’d never have to miss anything. One of the things she missed the most was a sense of safety that came with having a family. That feeling of togetherness and excitement that made it difficult to imagine what true loneliness actually felt like.

Up until now it had been the other way around. 

_This is so dumb,_ she thought, _I’m better than this._ She covered her eyes and felt the rush of all she was missing, all she wanted, and how far away it seemed given that her marriage was due to implode any day now, and her best friend could have her heart broken and never want to see her again. 

Her father was a horrible man, but knowing this didn’t make her miss him any less. What it was to be held by him, carried, high on his shoulders, cradled and weightless. 

She caught a flash of another sight she’d blocked from her mind, his face downcast, lips twisted, eyes dark, emanating such fury, that Asami remembered looking up at him and begging him to quell her shame.

The only arms she craved then were Korra’s. She felt such a fool, getting lost to her despair, alone and on the floor. She had a mad imagining then, as her weeping turned into that pained exasperated laughter, that she and Korra could return here as an honest couple, with an honest family trailing in their wake. It looked awfully similar to the dinner party she’d interrupted at Kya’s house on Ember Island. Babies bounced on knees, generations mingling, an assembly line for lunch. _That’s the blue print,_ Asami mused, clutching her ribs as she devolved into hysterics. Not two dimensions, or a single moment captured and stared at, but a cacophony of memories surrounding people, sharing food, sharing each other, sharing love. 

“Hey I got you some clothes from the store, I warn you, they’re pretty awful-hey,”

Asami could only hear the bouncing of groceries on the tile as Korra’s arms enveloped her, pressing her face into her chest as she calmed herself in the dark she’d made there.

“Did you put a red sock in with the whites?” Korra cooed, palming circles between her shoulder blades.

“Oh,” Asami gasped, panic subsiding, “I don’t think so,”

“Good,” Korra fed her fingers through her tresses, “Lets get some food in you, you’re not so prone to despair once you’ve eaten.”

Korra helped her to her feet by her hands.

“I hate how well you know me,”

“No you don’t,” Korra smiled.

“No I don’t,” Asami took the clothes offered to her, “these are very, _soft,_ and yellow.” she unfurled the t-shirt, “Gao-Ling Flying Boars?” 

“A school running club were bagging groceries for tips, look the shorts match.”

“What size are these?”

Korra pursed her lips.

“Boys large.”

Asami opened her mouth to say something, but came up empty, rolling her eyes and shuffling past Korra as she blushed. 

“It was all they had!”

It wasn’t a bad fit, but it didn’t make Asami feel any less odd in clothes like this. She was the CEO of a fortune 500 company dammit, dressed as a middle schooler. She was reminded of how she felt in school, lanky and too tall. Still her chest filled out the top, hugging her shoulders, passing her naval and her once bandy legs were now strong and slender. The shorts cut barely made it halfway down her thigh.

“Shut it,” she seethed as she entered the kitchen. tying her hair up high. Korra paused her chopping to look at her, lips curling at the corner. “You chose these!”

“I didn’t say anything!” Korra bit her lip. “You look cute,”

Asami huffed and lifted herself onto a barstool of the kitchen island. 

Korra looked like a dream, _the dream,_ cooking for her, short hair half tied up, errant strands framing her cheeks and ice blue eyes. 

“Write it in my yearbook,” Asami popped a grape in her mouth, and melted at the taste of it. 

“Go easy,” Korra teased, Asami shot her a derisive look. “Sorry,” 

Korra picked up a strawberry and carved at it with her knife, nimble and skilled, folding the edges out and across, forming petals circling each other before holding it out for her.

“Rose?” 

Asami’s heart skipped as she took it, and she felt the sting of tears threatening to fall. If felt a crime to bite into it, but Korra’s smile only seemed to grow the closer she brought it to her lips. It tasted just as beautiful as it looked. 

Korra was her oasis, she could feel it in her throat as she looked at her, her heart was shining in her presence, and the sure and certain knowledge that if she left her it would all evaporate. 

The truth hitched in her throat. Standing she pressed a grateful kiss to Korra’s cheek, less to give thanks, and more to just feel her skin against hers while she could.

“I better call Opal, let her know we’re ok,” she said it with her eyes closed, forehead balanced over hers. 

“We’re still fighting remember?” Korra whispered, voice still husky, quiet and careful, “she can’t know about us.”

“She knows about you.” it wasn’t accusatory, she sought only clarity. 

“She thinks my feelings are…unrequited…Even then I didn’t want her to. Nobody can know, and you have to be careful around her. She’s perceptive.”

Asami hummed, finally opening her eyes, looking into Korra’s sad and even. 

“I can handle it,” her palm reached for her cheek, thumb brushing her lower lip. 

Korra began to pull back but Asami caught her wrist, tugging her back into her orbit.

“Korra I-,”

“ _Careful_ ,” Korra warned, tensing, thumb pressing into the blunt edge of her knife to steel her resolve. Asami craned her neck to kiss her, firm and soft.

“I feel _safe_ when I’m with you,” Asami confessed, laying her palm flat on her heart.

“Oh,” Korra was stunned as she disengaged from her, walking behind her to reach for the phone.

Asami didn’t expect to feel an arm snake about her stomach as Korra stopped her, or lips pressing gently on the back of her neck. She nosed the nape, unable to conjure the words, so she let her go, and the sounds of chopping filled the silence. 

“Me too,” Korra whispered, and Asami could only smirk as she dialled Opal. 

_“Bolin’s phone,”_ a young unfamiliar voice answered.

“Hey,” Asami balked, “Is…Opal there?”

“ _Who?”_

“Bolin’s girlfriend?”

“ _Who is this?”_

“I’m her boss, who are you?”

_“I’m not allowed to talk to strangers,”_

“You sound like a little girl,”

_“No you sound like a little girl!”_ Korra chuckled and Asami swatted at her, before climbing on the kitchen island to sit and watch her face as she worked. As much as she was charmed by her smile, Asami felt her cheeks flush. 

“Can you pass the phone to an adult?” Asami huffed.

“ _You’re an adul-!”_ the girl started to yell as the phone was snatched from her. There was a struggle on the line from a protesting child and whomever had the handset now, and as Korra laughed, Asami silenced her tracing her fingers over the jut of her jaw. 

“… _Don’t be so rude! Hello who is this?”_ The voice was older now, but one that Asami recognised.

“Grandma Yin,” 

“ _Asami! How are you? Mako told me you got married,”_ the hand on Korra’s shoulder turned into a sharp grip for a flash, “ _I was heart broken to hear it, I told Mako to make an honest woman of you for years! But hey ho, at least Korra is still single,”_ Asami rolled her eyes so hard they almost popped from her sockets, Korra could only find the whole situation more entertaining. “ _But that doesn’t mean you won’t be invited to the next reunion! So good of Bolin to host this year…”_ Yin went onto describe the ins and outs of the party that Asami vaguely recalled being invited to. 

At once Asami felt possessive and rubbed the wrong way by Korra’s odd glee at Grandma Yin’s grilling, having partaken in a fair share herself. Turning the receiver away from her face she placed a hand on the opposite side of Korra’s neck and kissed her quiet.

“ _Did you want me to grab Bolin?”_

Asami seemed to remember herself and pull away to say in a rush.

_“No,_ Opal,”

_“Right you are dearie,”_

Asami listened to the drums and voices of the party they were missing, but all she could concentrate on was the close proximity she found herself in with Korra. Kissing her may have been dangerous, but the need to touch her became all encompassing. She stroked the soft blades of her lips against her cheek as she waited for the next part of the call. 

She was quickly forgetting what that was when her mouth fell to her neck, and it only seemed natural to take a taste.

“ _Asami,”_ Korra warned, turning her head to her forehead rested on her hair, suddenly weak, and enthralled. 

“ _Asami? You there?”_

“Opal! Hi, I just wanted to let you know we’re okay,”

“ _I checked your secret hideout last night, you weren’t home, I was about to call the police!”_

“We’re fine, Korra took me to an old vacation spot in Gao Ling to spread…the ashes, and the storm blocked us from coming home.”

_“Have you guys kissed and made up yet?”_ Opal teased, little did she know that was more or less exactly what they’d done.

“Not exactly,” Asami lied, squeezing her bicep underhand, taut and hard as a rock. Whatever she’d done to her neck seemed to have broken something in Korra’s brain, “She’s still tense…I haven’t figured out why,”

Asami pulled her so she sidestepped, hips flush between her legs. She pulled her forward and tucked her eyes beneath her jaw.

“ _Best not to dwell on it… she’ll come around. Especially now.”_

“We have time,” she felt Korra’s mouth in the crux of her jaw, Asami’s eyes widened before they slammed shut, clearly whatever she’d broken was intrinsically linked to Korra’s entire sense of self preservation. She suckled and Asami almost whimpered down the phone, she bit her lip and dug her nails into her arm before she reclaimed her wavering voice. “We’re not returning til…til tomorrow,” 

Korra’s fingers skimmed beneath the hem of her t shirt, Asami’s core tensing as the sensation. 

“ _I’m sure you guys can work it out,”_ Opal insisted. Korra had reared back, blue eyes burning, fallen to her lips. Asami gulped.

“Can hold the fort for one more day?”

“ _Sure, look I gotta go the conga line is starting, you know Bolin’s family,”_

“Conga is serious business,” Asami breathed, nosing Korra’s cheek, daring her.

_“You got it…And Korra…go easy on her okay? She cares but she’s stubborn you know?”_

“I know my best friend better than you think,”

“ _Right_ ,” she heard the smile in Opal’s voice, and took it as goodbye, hanging up and dropping the handset clattering, to cup Korra’s neck. 

“You’re insane,” Asami gasped, tasting Korra’s breath.

“You _started_ it,” 

The kiss was needy and wild, biting, tugging, desperate. For someone who couldn’t control the urge for one phone call Korra really knew what she was doing. Her thumb traced the exposed nerves in the apex of her thigh.

The oven rang out for attention and Korra paused for but a moment. Asami tugged her back.

“ _It’s going to burn,”_

_“Don’t you dare stop,”_

This would be over tomorrow, it only made Asami need her more. Korra could only oblige, kiss turning bruising, lips spongey, seeking the taste of her tongue and keen of her voice, to feel those nails scratching and tugging the hair at the nape of her neck. Korra had come to learn Asami did this when she _wanted_ her. Korra knew she could only ever do as she asked. At least until the oven began to spew smoke.

Korra dove to fight the small fire that erupted, dashing her fishcakes into the sink and dousing them under the tap. Breath heaving she braced herself on the counter, her cognisant mind returning.

“I wanted to impress you,” 

“I’m sorry,” Asami wasn’t.

“I can make eggs,” she lamented, “it’ll take five minutes.”

Asami’s hands braced on her abdomen from behind, kissing where usually Korra’s hair hid on the back of her neck.

“What are you thinking?” Korra asked.

“We could be like this all the time” Asami murmured against her skin before she could catch herself, and once again she felt Korra grow tense. This was expected, what wasn’t was that Korra seemed to unclench and slip her fingers between Asami’s.

“Tomorrow doesn’t matter, not right now.” Korra squeezed her fingers.

Asami squeezed back.

“Okay,” 

****

“I’ll keep the evidence,” Korra wrapped Asami’s _Flying Boar’s_ outfit around her hand. They’d left the car in the garage, and were hidden in the secret tunnel between the book cases. Asami grabbed her wrist to stop her, but couldn’t conjure a reason beyond that she didn’t want her to leave. 

That wasn’t good enough she knew. 

“Don’t think about it,” Korra told her, eyes knowing. 

Asami couldn’t answer, no words were sufficient. They’d shared three nights of passion and now what? Back to their lives, until Asami’s life became less insane. Who knew when that would be?

Korra stepped down towards her, the stair case making her taller for once. She tugged her into her chest and Asami’s arms flew up to cling back. She bit back a sob, and Korra kissed her cheek, her eyelids, and hovered above her lips as she cradled her jaw.

“Don’t follow me okay?” it was more gentle than the last time she’d said this.

And like that she was gone. 

****

“We hiked,” Asami explained to Opal, throwing a sprig of rosemary into the pot roast on the stove, “we went swimming,” Asami tasted the ghost of Korra’s lips then, her bare chest pressing into her own, the urgency of her hands under the water. “We drank wine,”she tried to think of the glasses, only the discarded glasses on the floor of the bedroom, and not the two bodies entangled on the sheets, quite exquisitely, and her need to have Korra bucking uncontrollably into her palm, “Reminisced,” pillow talk, always pillow talk in the afterglow. 

“All that and you’re still fighting?”

Asami threw another sprig, _she loves me, she loves me not,_ echoing in her mind.

“It’s complicated…she wanted to leave me,”

“Oh,”

“Everyone,” Asami corrected, “ _for good,”_

_“What?”_

_“Maybe,”_ Asami pressed, “Sometimes I feel like she’s all I have left,” she pursed her lips, being honest and keeping the truth from Opal was a delicate balance, dancing on a tight rope, “I can’t lose her, but I can’t make her stay if she wants to go,”

Opal’s nimble hand rubbed her back soothingly.

“She won’t,” she assured her, “She likes you too much,” 

Asami was grateful she couldn’t see her face then. The grief that gripped her that she couldn’t deny. She’d had a taste of life without Korra this past week or so, and she’d hated every minute of it.

“What is this for anyway?” Opal picked up the recipe Asami was following.

“Iroh’s birthday pot roast, his mother insisted I learn.”

“He’s back?”

“Last night, left early for work this morning, don’t know when he’ll be back but can’t give up on tradition,” Asami shrugged.

“Ah, well hopefully he’ll want to join in when he gets back,”

“Join in…what,” Asami turned, “what do you have planned?”

“I’ve meddled.” Opal grinned, and as if on cue the doorbell rang out.

“What did you do?”

“I thought we could work out together, the _crew,”_

_“You got Korra to come?”_

“I told her you’d be out, she’s coming over to put the shells in the bathroom,”

“Opal what the hell!”

“It’s been over a week since you were away and nothing’s changed you two have never been fighting this long and _you’re miserable.”_

_“I’m an adult, Opal, I’m allowed to be,”_

Asami was doing as she asked, and now that Iroh was back the work could begin. She could do as Korra asked, test her feelings. The longer she spent apart from her best friend however, the more unsettled she felt. She was desperate not to lose her, the last thing she needed, (but the first thing she wanted) was Korra, much less Korra being ambushed.

_Ding dong._

“If she thinks we’re not in then why-”

“I gave her a key that’s-” _dingdong dingdong dingdong dingdong - OW_

“Bo,” Asami breathed, closing the lid on the roast. 

She opened the door to Bolin and Mako in their work out gear, shorts and vests from their old boxing days, Bolin had opted to add as many sweat bands to his limbs as he could possibly manage.

“Crew fight Crew _fight_ Crew, what?” 

Asami’s mouth flapped, if she dug in her heels and stopped it from happening, they would ask why. _I’ve been cheating on my husband with my best friend after fucking her in the woods for three days, so it’s pretty inconvenient you’ve invited her here now when I am preparing my husband a birthday pot roast._

“Come in,” she conceded. Korra would run a mile when she saw her. They were fighting, it was only natural.

She almost closed the door behind them when she caught sight of Korra in the driveway, balancing a plant in one hand. 

“Korra!” Opal grabbed her before she could bolt, pulling her inside. “Group spar yes?”

“No,” Korra began desperate not to look Asami in the eye, “I’m here to fix the wall with seashells, and,” she lifted the plant, “housewarming,”

“Look Asami, an olive branch,”

“It’s a cactus,” Korra balked.

“How lovely, see Asami? Now hug your friend,” 

Now the eyes clashed and they both tensed, Asami felt Bolin nudging her back and she rolled her eyes, hugging Korra to placate them. Unfortunately her body against hers made her melt just enough, her fingers combing through the hair at the nape of her neck.

Korra’s nose bumped her cheek as they parted and she flinched, moreso because of the eyes of their friends, who knew not what they saw.

“Oh look Korra, you even brought work out clothes too!” Opal spotted them in Korra’s plastic bag of shells.

“I’m returning-I,” Korra stopped herself, heaving a sigh. “I’ll go change,”

She hadn’t meant to take out her frustration on a human punching bag, but it was almost too easy slipping through Bolin’s guard and slamming her hands in the centre of his chest. Wheezing he flew back on the mat, legs folding over his head before he lay flat on his back.

“Sorry Bo,” Korra called.

“You broke my heart,” he whimpered.

“Aw, _Korra,”_ Opal admonished.

“Concentrate,” Asami snapped her fingers to her sparring partner, eager to distract herself from how amazing Korra still looked in the workout clothes she had leant her.

“You up for another round Mako?” Korra asked the other brother, still recovering from their bout with an icepack on his eyebrow.

“Just sit down,” he sneered. “Wait your turn with Asami, I hear she kicked your ass last time anyway,”

Korra flipped him off and concentrated on the mat between her legs, not the women grappling on the other side of the dojo. 

“So are you going to introduce us to this girl any time soon?” Mako asked, almost casual. Korra shot him a glare and he pointed, to the fading mouth shaped bruises Korra had on her neck. Asami’s bites on their last night together had been hard and desperate, whereas Korra had made a point to refrain. 

“It’s new…wouldn’t want to scare her off with _my meddling friends,”_ Korra raised her voice so Opal would hear. Whom protested but was promptly pinned by Asami.

“You broke it off with June?” Bolin asked.

“Ages ago, you find out someone’s married it’s supposed to be a deal breaker.” she chuckled dryly, sipping her water bottle.

“What’s she like?” Bolin sat up now, eager for the goss.

Korra couldn’t help it, this time Asami seemed to be in the perfect line of sight, and looking back at her, and it was impossible to lie.

“She’s perfect actually,”

“Oof!” Opal had twisted wildly, and pinned Asami while she was distracted.

“Ha!”

“Good, you did good,” Asami braved a smile, “I let you pin me,”

“Did you hear? She’s with someone here, she might stay!” Opal whispered back with glee. It wasn’t reassuring. 

Asami slipped out from under her to take long ice cold draughts of water. 

“You ready for the Thunderdome Asami?” Bolin asked.

“What?”

“Come on, your rivalry is legendary, you can’t tell me you didn’t see this coming?”

“Not this time Bo,” Korra waved her hands.

He’d already started chanting in his best wrestling voice.

“Korra versus Asami, Yin versus Yang, The Engineer Versus the Ice Princess,”

“Why am I a princess?” Korra objected.

When their eyes met, they felt resigned to it, their friends were relentless, but it would taste a lie to say they hadn’t wanted to be close again. Fighting meant no funny business, plus an audience, they should be safe, right?

The rounded each other without words, Korra tried not to make eye contact, until Asami spoke quietly, just for them.

“Don’t hold back this time okay?”

Ice clashed with jade, Korra looked affronted, frowning. 

“Hajime!” Opal clapped. 

Korra swept for her feet, which Asami dodged. It felt good there was no denying, as much as they were fighting the tension between them, technique, muscle memory and the will to win was still ever present.

Less rusty, Korra left no room for error, she wished those words didn’t spur her on but they did. She turned Asami away with a grip on her wrist and she stumbled, gripping her shirt and hooking her upright with her own knee they paused for an imperceptible amount of time, that stretched for them, but could only have been a second to the onlookers. Asami reclaimed balance twisting, rolling, taking Korra with her, which Korra surprisingly turned to her advantage.

Asami couldn’t particularly say what happened, but she was awestruck by lips grazing her throat, and suddenly she was pinned with no escape, breath heaving. She was both relieved and exasperated that her friends didn’t seem to notice the slight of mouth.

“You _cheated,”_ she accused quietly. Korra had no rebuttal but to scramble off her and storm off. 

“I didn’t come here for this,” she muttered, stomping up the stairs.

“Korra wait!” Opal called.

“Leave her Opal,” Asami warned. 

Mako found her later when he was about to leave, pumping caulk into seashells and guiding them into place on Asami’s bathroom wall. He dropped his bag, his infamous red scarf hanging out of it and leaned on the door jamb.

“You doing okay Kay?”

“I’m fine,”

“People who are fine storm off,” Mako nodded, “You know I’m a cop right?”

“ _You never mention it,_ ” Korra muttered, but she was already smiling, “I didn’t want to come for a big thing,”

“Yeah Opal has a way of making us have fun when we don’t want to,”

“You too?”

“But it’s good for us, that’s what we forget, we’d be sulking by ourselves without her.”

Korra didn’t have a response either way, he was right, she wished he wasn’t.

“Whatever is going on with you and Asami, I’m here to talk, if you want… I mean I like to think I know you both pretty well,”

“Is this the part where you bring up you dated the two of us?”

“You brought it up, not me,” Mako held up his hands and Korra threw a bar of soap at him.

“Fine, if I have any burning questions I’ll ask,” she lifted the glue gun in her hand and aimed it at him, “now get outta here before I stick my caulk in you,”

He guffawed and swiped at his bag, not pausing to check if anything had fallen out or slipped under Asami’s bed as he left. 

She met him at the bedroom door.

“She’s all yours,” he jibed, before going to meet the others out front.

Asami watched her work from the door, and Korra felt her gaze acutely, determined not to look back at her. Silence stretched, until Korra broke it.

“Kya sent me these,” Korra placed the last and held it to the wall while the glue dried, “I didn’t even ask, I just told her about the mosaic and I got a package the next day.”

“You called her?”

“You told me to.” Korra smiled wistfully, before remembering herself.

“I’m sorry for…accusing you,” Asami swiped her hair behind her ears, “I’m sure you didn’t mean to-”

“I did.” Korra looked up at her, “I had to stop myself from doing more.” she dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry I’ll go-”

“I’m pissed at you,” Asami told her matter of factly. Korra gazed back at her, eye brows arching, confused, “All these years you’ve been holding back, _letting me win,”_

_“So?”_

_“How am I supposed to be the best I can be if you’re pandering for me?”_

“Are you serious right now?”

_“I want a rematch.”_ Asami was petulant, she held onto that as she folded her arms and dug in her heels. She had a point to prove. The total she’d clung to all these years meant nothing. She was justified in this. Super justified.

Korra’s eye twitched, and she shook her head, standing marching past her best friend. 

“You coming?” she called back.

Asami’s heart was pulsing loudly in her ears. Her eyes followed the symphony of muscles on Korra’s back, flexing as she retied her tiny pony tail. When they set foot on the dojo mats she rounded on her, and although Asami had been willing, Korra pinned her quicker than ever. Straddling her, hands on her wrists, chest heaving, sweat beading on her neck. 

Without a word she adjusted her grip, until her palms met hers and their fingers entangled.

“Korra,” Asami breathed, and it was all the invitation she needed to press her mouth over hers.

****

“Dang it I left my scarf inside,” Mako was rifling through his bag for it, in the back seat of Opal’s car. “One of us has to go back for it,”

_“Not it!”_ the brothers yelped as though trained to do so with hot pokers.

“Are you serious right now?” Opal glared at them. “There is some crazy angry tension between those two, I’m not going in,”

“But you lost,” Bolin explained pouting, “It’s the rule of law,”

“Plus the only reason they’re in tension is because you threw them together before they were ready,” Mako added, “I mean what possessed you,”

“Friendship,” Opal snapped, opening the car door, “ _Sisterhood_ ,” she slammed it shut, “Sanity,” she muttered to herself as she used her key to get in.

She called Asami’s name, then Korra’s but received no answer. Her ears piqued at the sound of a grunt, when she realised they must be having a rematch. _Without us! How dare they?_

As light as a spy she pressed on the door of the dojo, perching on the top step and craning her neck to see them. Korra had pinned Asami again, but her struggling to break the hold looked…strange, like she wasn’t trying to escape at all. Korra’s vest was gone and was only clad in a sports bra and leggings, and Asami’s fingers were twisting in the back of Korra’s hair. Korra’s face tucked into her throat, and her arm trapped in an awkward position between them.

“ _No biting_ ,” Asami moaned, sucking in a breath, knees clamping over her waist. Korra’s response was to rear back and kiss her hard on the mouth. Asami’s tongue swiped out and Korra welcomed it with her own. 

Opal clapped her hand over her potentially loud scream. They hadn't noticed her, not in the way Asami’s throat unlocked with the strokes of Korra’s fingers burrowed between her legs beneath the lycra. Keening with pleasure as her fingernails dug hard into Korra’s bare shoulder. The assistant scrambled to get out, not even bothering to close the front door, wrenching her car door open and throwing herself inside.

“What happened? Where’s my scarf?”

“Are they still fighting?” Bolin asked as Opal shoved her key in the ignition.

“Yep! They are _really_ laying into each other,” She hadn’t blinked in about a minute, she knew if she did the memory of Asami getting railed by Korra was still burned into her corneas.

__


	12. Bad Idea - girl in red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song 1- Bad Idea - girl in red  
> Song 2 - Criminal - Fiona Apple

Neither noticed that they had been intruded upon. In fact the building could have collapsed into rubble around them and they would have gone on believing they were the only two people left in the world, beneath the most perfect, bluest sky. 

Asami had made a point of switching off her inhibitions the second she’d whispered Korra’s name. Whatever it was that kept her in this house alone for two weeks and not running to her best friend the first chance she got, evaporated with her kiss, her fingers, her sounds, her weight pressed firmly between her hips. Everything about this was so visceral and heightened post fight, they attacked this with the same intensity, only with more simpering, biting and passionate kisses.Hearing Korra’s breath’s against her skin sent a surge of wetness pooling over the fingers pumping insistently between her legs.

The heiress had so little control over the course of her life, she adored fighting so much because she could claw it back. Namely Korra’s back, slick with sweat she wanted to lick, putting her leg over her to encourage her wordlessly. Korra followed her cue, rearing back, biting her lip, taking her tongue in her mouth, feeding her knee behind her hand for Asami to grind against.

_I love you,_ she tamped it down before the words slipped past her lips. This wasn’t the control she wanted, this wasn’t what sex with Korra should become, not yet, not here. Before she could dwell on the thought she was spasming beneath her like a shaking arching animal.

With a gasp sharp to the point of heartbreak, she thwacked her head into the mat, eyes rolling, body wracking with intense pleasure. Neck open to Korra’s lips, pressing controlled soothing kisses on her way down, hissing as a second and third orgasms poured out of her. 

In a move not dissimilar to their sparring, Asami tugged her, so her own hand could reach between Korra’s legs, fingers sliding under sodden material to work her up. Korra’s knees spread, deepening the pin, and in turn Asami’s sinking inside her, flexing and stroking the silken ridges and walls between the folds. 

Elbows braced on the mat, glistening fingers prone, Korra took her in, body thrumming, brows drawn together, mouth agape, eyes closed. Silent say for the obscene noises Asami’s fingers were making with the canter of her hips. The acute need for tenderness broke Asami, her free hand cupped her cheek, her thumb stroking there until Korra opened her eyes to look at her. 

_I love you,_ she thought it, stinging her weak and stupid heart, an organ that had been encapsulated in darkness until now, her best friend had punctured a hole in it’s hardened shell, and it was blinking in the new light, ignorant and hopeful, but still she willed her to hear it in such a way that she would accept. 

Asami couldn’t help the immense adoring gaze and watched her blue eyes flutter shut, unable to take it. Korra turned her face into her palm as the sensations gripped her. Even in the throes, Korra refused to give up discipline, Korra who lived and built a life on her own terms, made love on them too. Lips feverish beneath her fingertips, Asami was surprised to feel her mouth open and take in her middle and ring finger, suckling them with a dangerous gleam in her eye. Iroh’s ring bumping her cupids bow. 

Asami pulled them free if only to kiss her in apology, for the mistakes, the wasted years, for not seeing the truth. When Korra pried away, Asami’s chased her, only Korra’s gaze caught her again, foreheads pressed, the intimacy of their pose calmed her. 

Asami watched her expressions change with the slow hard thrust of her hips, reacting to Asami’s thumb circling her swollen clit as her walls clenching around her curling digits. Her wrist ached, but nothing in the world would get her to stop as she worshipped the drop of her open mouth, those expressive brows drawn in made her heart swell as Asami pressed and pressed and _pressed that spot._

Asami often forgot that at a certain angle Korra’s iris’ captured light, and beneath her she could see them glow as they fluttered in ecstasy. Neither had a free hand to wipe away the tears that were falling down Asami’s temple as she stared into the eclipse burning above her. 

Korra was letting go. 

Her arms lost their prop and she bowed her head finally, her ragged breath fracturing into Asami’s ear like a thousand secrets.

Asami took her weight as she relaxed into her, sliding her hand out of her leggings if only to coil her arms tightly around Korra’s ribs as they settled in the afterglow. 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” Korra whispered into her ear. Asami turned her eyes into the crook of her neck and closing them there, holding her against her in solemn vigil. Refusing to feel ashamed. 

“It’s a little late for remorse Kay,” Asami breathed back wryly, fingers tracing the dip and curve of her spine. Korra hummed in response, and Asami loathed how much she loved the reverberating sensation. 

“What are we-?” Korra pulled back to begin to panic, only Asami stopped her in her tracks. Tilting her chin to capture her mouth in a firm tender kiss. 

“Don’t think about it,” Asami echoed, stroking strands of hair away from her face that had been twisted free moments earlier. She was desperate not to think, to live in this moment she’d stolen. 

“All I’ve done is think about this,” Korra told her matter of factly, still as cold as she sounded, her lips danced over Asami’s temple, breathing her in. Pressing curious kisses there, tasting salty tears on her tongue.

Korra extricated from her slowly, sitting back on her knees, running her fingers over her face, exasperated, weak and conflicted.

“You know what I’m afraid of the most?” she stared at the space above her head, finding it impossible to tell her while meeting her gaze, “that I become okay with this, being your mistress…just to keep you…I don’t think I’ll ever be strong enough to leave.” 

A single tear fell, and Korra caught it before Asami could even move.

“Korra…you are so strong,” Asami struggled against her closing throat, “and _brave…_ you’re the best person I know,” 

“We had a _plan_ ,” Korra lamented. 

“Plans change,”

“So what? We keep _stealing_ moments for the rest of your marriage until it ends? Tomorrow? In a year? In twenty when you’ve got the life you wanted from him, kids running around and me and you are just fucking in the shadows when no ones looking?”

Asami stood, stung, arms crossed low over her belly.

“I know what I want when I’m with you.”

“And when you aren’t?”

“I want it then too,”

“And when you’re with him?”

Asami knew there was no answer Korra would accept, specifically because Iroh had not come home yet. Due diligence had not been had, but it made Asami’s skin crawl at the idea of it. She thumbed the ring on her finger, still wet from Korra’s mouth, and paced away.

“We’ll see won’t we,” she muttered. It wasn’t until she reached the kitchen, and smelled the pot roast that she remembered, _I fucked my mistress on my husband’s birthday._

“I’m going to hell,” she whispered to herself, unable to pull the horrified expression from her own eyes as she stared at the slow cooker on the hob. That expression became cemented as she watched Korra wash her hands, take a knife and begin peeling and parring vegetables she’d left out at a frightening speed.

“What are you doing?” Asami asked when she’d found her voice. 

“You’re not exactly good at this you know,” Korra gestured at the half destroyed counters with the biggest knife Asami owned, but had never used.

This was the first Korra, best friend Korra, opening the pot and recoiling at the insides, yanking the hob off.

“Is it burnt?” Asami asked, covering her smile with her hand. Watching Korra in the kitchen had always given her a warm feeling in her gut. She’d never questioned it, but looking back, she knew now that was attraction. Seeing Korra in a domestic situation as of late; had the unfortunate effect of making her wet.

“It’s _done,”_ Korra warned, “Carve away the black bits and you’re golden,”

“Why are you helping me?”

Korra looked up at her then, gaze a wounded, but open.

“I’ve always felt like this. Wanting you. Not having you. Wanting to help you be okay…in other words, I’m a fool, but only for you,” that wretched half smile was back, and Asami felt the pit in her stomach. “It killed me to leave you here,” Korra kept her eyes closed as she confessed. “To put you through this for me,”

“I know,” Asami whispered.

Stepping into her space, hands over her collar bones, she kissed her soft and sweet, to which Korra could only respond in kind.

“No more of those,” she muttered against her lips, “I’ll look for some spices to save this mess,” she made for the walk in pantry, fully stocked but in the weeks Asami had lived here, never touched. 

She was curious, and watched Korra as one witnesses performance art, waiting for Korra to break under the intense weight. _I’m helping you make dinner for your husband_ because _I want to continue sleeping with you._

“Hey Hon,” She slammed the pantry door shut, trapping Korra inside.

Iroh was descending the stairs. Towelling his head, dressed in his relaxing sweats. In his hand he clutched Mako’s iconic red scarf. 

“Iroh!” She turned, and he pressed himself into her space quite unexpectedly, giving her a one armed hug before leaning against the kitchen counter, “ _You’re back,_ ”

“I am,” His smile was stiff, and Asami inspected him, he wasn’t quite right, but his body language didn’t exactly marry with the idea that he had seen, heard or suspected her of what she had actually been doing. Still something was decidedly off. “Mom’s recipe,” he exclaimed, lifting the lid of the pot, trying not to wince. “Needs something…Oregano, Garlic maybe,” 

Asami tried to keep the terror from her face as she tugged open the pantry door, Korra braced on the floor, holding the right spices up for her to take. When Asami took them she cupped her wrist with her hands, blue eyes gazing up at her pleadingly.

_Be safe,_ she mouthed. Asami could only give a slight nod hidden by the door, biting her lip, desperate not to blab her final goodbyes.

She opened the pot and sprinkled, brain melting, fist curled against the counter.

“How have you been?” she stalled for time, for any stroke of genius to save the three of them from the whirlpool they’d been dragged into, and the subsequent garburator hidden beneath, “How was _work?”_

“It was fine, great actually, successful mission. Promotion underway, they’re actually hosting a General’s Ball in my honour,”

“That’s great!” her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She turned back to her mission of a meal to hide it.

She flinched when she felt him press up behind her, nosing the nape of her neck, his hand bracing her ribs.

“You smell good,” he muttered, inhaling, “ _Sweet_ ,”

It was Korra’s sweetness, how she tasted when sated. Under his nose Asami felt cornered, the evidence still slake over her skin.

“I found this in our bedroom,” 

Iroh stood beside her now, sensing her tension, unfurling the scarf beside her.

“Mako must’ve left it,” she barely gazed at it as she chucked Korra’s vegetables in a pot of water and switched on the hob. 

“ _Dammit Asami,”_ Iroh smacked the countertop and she jumped. 

“He came to see the work Korra was doing on the bathroom, _all_ my friends were here, we had a group workout,” She gestured to her clothes, and he blinked.

Catching the pantry door open just a crack in the corner of her eye, she had to hold her own just enough so that Korra wouldn’t reveal herself.

“You’ve been different,” he snipped, determined to pick at the imperfection until it bled.

“You’ve been back for forty seconds and what? Look at what I’m doing here,” she felt like a rotten liar, but she’d also never seen him so immediately unhinged. Theirs was a placid relationship, easy, no real fights to speak of. This was new, and utterly terrifying. “You think I’m sleeping with my ex of _over a decade,_ over a scarf? He’s my friend _Iroh you know this,_ ”

“Hey, like father like daughter right?” he seethed, “You said this place is making you crazy. Icing me out, moping around like the girl from the Ring-”

“My _father_ died.” that took the wind out of his sails. He stepped away, hands posed in a confused, semi-peaceful gesture.

“When?” he breathed.

“A month ago…I found out when I called the prison.”

“You didn’t tell me,”

“I tried…my friends have been here but, _God_ , Iroh, pick your moments,” her eyes darted to the door that hid Korra for that split second, she prayed he wouldn’t notice.

“ _I’m sorry I just -_ We move in here and everything is different, I mean you didn’t tell me your father died? You knew I was coming home and you thought you’d save it, you get help from _your high school friends instead of your husband?”_

_“They knew me when he was alive you sociopath, the shit he put me through, how it ruined me!”_

_“You wanna talk sociopath?_ You fuck me in the middle of the night and then you can’t stand to have me touch you, you wouldn’t even look me in the eye when I was _inside you, and_ it’s been driving me nuts, and I come home last night and you’re what? Pretending to sleep?”

“Believe it or not being your wife doesn’t entitle you to my body every time you want it,”

Asami couldn’t anticipate the snatch, but he had her wrist tight in his grip before she could wrench away. Iroh wasn’t like this. As much as it hurt it froze her, staring into his burning gaze and feeling that familiar bubble of shame welt in her gut.

“ _Being my wife entitles me to the truth,”_ his sneer faded, voice turning low, dropping an octave, eyes black with unbridled rage she’d heretofore never seen from the man she married, “I swear to God if you’re betraying me like I think you are, I will _end_ your little gaggle of friends,”

Asami stared without seeing. Very much lost in a memory that returned to her then.

_“Is this true Asami?” her father pressed, “how you feel about your friend?”_

_She had been speechless then, the principle of her prep school perched on the edge of her father’s desk, her father kneeled in front of her chair._

_She’d missed Korra, her school, along with Mako and Bolin’s, was in another district, and her father had paid for his little heir to attend one of the best in Republic City alone. It was only natural that she’d daydream about her friends. That she’d miss the way Korra had held her hand on their trip to the Banyan Grove tree, and wonder when they could be together for such a fun time again. Her teacher had caught her sketching however, ‘Korra and Asami’ in the most damning of doodles; a heart._

_“Speak girl,” Principle Amon gripped her wrist tight and she flinched and fought, tears pouring down her cheeks. She was so strait-laced back then, even in pain, even with all her training, she couldn’t raise a hand to an authority figure._

_Desperate to be free she uttered weakly._

_“I don’t know!” she whined. Afraid to admit it to herself, more afraid to admit it to these men, who could keep her best friend away if they knew. She loved Korra as much as any thirteen year old girl could._

_“Asami, tell the truth - do you love her?”_

_“Of course I do she’s my friend - please stop you’re hurting me,”_

_“She is not your friend,” Amon spoke, dark blue eyes hypnotic and empty, “She is immoral, and wrong, and you should never see her again,”_

_“No dad please, I won’t- I won’t hold her hand again, I won’t think about her, please-“ she remembered her begging breaking down into sobs, until the hand on her wrist released. The two men staring at the woman whom had burst into her father’s office._

_“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Yasuko had screamed as loud as her frail, pallid frame would allow._

“Asami!” Iroh shook her and she reacted instinctively, jamming her palm into his chest until he fell back on his ass. 

A clattering reverberated through the room then, a matt and black shape fell from the back of Iroh’s pants and he scrambled to retrieve and hide it.

“A gun?” she seethed, “You brought a gun into _my house?”_

“Asami I’m-”

“ _No,”_ she cut him off, running her thumb over the bruise forming on her wrist, “You were going to shoot my lover all over this nice dinner?” she cackled, feeling just as mad as she sounded, “ _get out,”_

“Sami-”

“Out!” she yelled. 

Iroh rose slowly, and as she watched and he stepped, she paced to match, keeping the distance. 

“Okay…I’m sorry,” he told her, wrenching himself back to a calm and collected place, “I’m going to cool off elsewhere, I hope when I return we…we can have a rational discussion.” 

She feigned fury, body tight with fear, subconsciously blocking him from the pantry as he backed out the front door. She listened hard for the sound of his car pulling out the driveway and the screech of tyres as he tore out of there as fast as his toxic masculinity would take him. 

It was then and only then did she feel Korra’s fingers interlock with her own. She could barely hear her speaking, but her palm pressed against her throat had her turning into her embrace. 

“ _I was so scared_ ,” she whimpered, “You were right behind that door and he-” she couldn’t breathe for sobbing, not until Korra’s hand ran warm grounding circles in the twisted muscles of her aching spine. When her eyes closed she could only imagine what he’d do if he found her, trapped in the closet, the perfect target.

“What do you need?” Korra crooned, “Sweetie, what do you need from me?”

“ _Just hold me,_ ” she managed, pounding heart skipping at the pet name.

Her arms were vices around her shoulders as she gasped for the breaths she’d been holding in. Korra held her steady through it all, even as she tucked her nose under her jaw, inhaling that soothing sweet scent. Adrenaline coursed through them both, and Korra’s whole body reacted to the peak of a tongue swiping there. She gripped her elbows but didn’t pull away, Asami’s teeth followed, nipping, biting softly.

Delirious with terror, Asami found herself suckling, savouring her flavour and clinging tight to her one safe anchor in this world.

“ _Asami_ ,” she breathed.

“ _Korra_ ,” Asami lifted her lips parrallell, pupils blown, bracing her palm over Korra’s pounding heart, guiding Korra’s hand by her wrist over her own. 

Korra felt like she had fallen into one of her fantasies, sticky, scandalous, and hot, this should not be happening, but it _was,_ and she wanted it all so bad. She wanted Asami nosing her cheek, warm sweet breath pluming over her lips, wandering hands sliding over her shirt to stroke her nipple through the fabric. 

_“Touch me_ ,” a gentle request, but Asami stepped back in a moment of pure deja vu, hard cold metal of the fridge braced behind her back. Her trembling fingers cupped Korra’s jaw as she guided her. The Korra that was with her now was the second Korra, capturing her lips in response, a victor, intoxicated, a champion without consequences. Lifting her legs and bracing her against her hips. Asami had the wherewithal to strip her shirt and let it fly, arms crossing behind Korra’s neck as she bit her lower lip, and fed her her tongue in a soulful kiss. Korra’s hand found entry via the leg of her shorts, tangling with panties and fabric, fingers sliding through her lower lips, parting her, teasing her hard nub between two fingers, before slipping inside molten slick pulsing walls. Asami cupped Korra’s jaw with both hands, kissing, gasping, biting her lip, whining as she pulled her apart mid air.

“Ah!” the ice dispenser shot cubes at her back, and Korra reacted unfazed, setting her partner on the counter with the rose gold furnishings and peeling down her shorts, planting languishing lazy kisses from her ankle to her inner thigh, before standing between legs she nudged farther apart herself, until toes balanced on the edge and Asami’s swollen centre pulsed and twitched in anticipation. 

She simpered as her steady hands tugged her bra over head, allowing Korra to lap her tongue over the stiff pebbled tip, her mouth latching as her nails drew patterns on the soft expanse of her quivering thigh. Asami guided her other palm to her breast and together they squeezed and her neck fell back noiselessly, mouth open.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” she whimpered carding fingers through her hair encouragingly, “I want you _inside_.” she tugged her back up to kiss her deep and wild. The controlled entanglement they’d shared earlier eclipsed by something chaotic, needy and exhilarating. 

From her lips Korra mouthed her path down, carelessly nipping at the skin, palming her breast, suckling her nipple, leaving wet kisses in the path of her navel. Using her grip on her thighs she tugged her forward and angled her knees over her shoulders once again. From between her legs she looked up at what had become a familiar sight; Asami’s hooded jade eyes gazing down at her, her long fingers combing through her hair waiting for her lips to kiss her glistening core. 

Korra had just enough of a mind to draw it out, to explore her folds with her tongue, to push past the rim as far as she could inside her until Asami jerked and writhed, coaxing her with her body. She knew from the quiet moan above her that she was biting her lip, and decided it was time to give her what she wanted, three probing fingers burrowing inside, curling, stretching her.

Asami quaked as she rode Korra’s mouth, her skilled tongue drawing full body shudders, as she braced herself on the kitchen counter. She could count on her fingers how many thrusts she had left before it all came to a crescendo, but she wanted to draw it out, to live in this debauched and hedonistic moment until the universe folded in on itself. 

Tears littered her cheeks, Korra’s fingers on her thigh laced with hers now, just knowing where she wanted her to be. _I love you._ She wanted to scream it so badly it hurt. Biting her lip to hold it in, lurching as pleasure rattled through her very bones. 

She knew she was selfish, cruel even, but on a deeper level she knew she’d made a choice, and she knew it was time to be reckless about getting it.

Blowing up her life seemed to be a good start.

****

Iroh kept three cars between his, and Mako’s sedan. 

Republic City’s street lights painted streaks over his car as he crawled under them.

Mako parked, losing his jacket, checking his brows in the mirror, before heading inside the dark dingy bar with nothing but an _OPEN_ sign boasting a fluorescent martini glass tippling over and over to indicate it was anything but.

Iroh waited, watching to see if he’d emerge soon, after ten, he turned off his own engine and headed inside. 

From the look of the outside, no-one would guess the place would be packed, wall to wall patrons huddled about the edges talking animatedly, heat thick in the air, dancers pressed so close that grinding was pretty much their only option.

He ignored the _hey handsome ’s,_ from the voices in the dark and blue, and saw his target, cutting a sharp, tall silhouette over by the bar. He could see why Asami had chosen him all those years ago, Mako had been handsome then, and now, and the height wouldn’t have been an issue. He mulled over the reasons why as he pressed on the pistol holstered at his back, still secure, still ready. 

He watched him for a time, take his drink and turn to the crowd, clearly off duty, golden eyes glinting in the dark searching for someone. Iroh guessed from the smug turn of his lips, it wouldn’t be hard. The idea made his blood boil. His feet started moving before he knew it, and a clumsy dancer knocked him into Mako’s view.

The Cop’s face dropped.

“What are you doing here?” he yelled over the din, worry lacing his look.

Iroh’s face twisted.

“I came to talk to _you_ ,” he pointed shoving through strangers, watching Mako watch him curiously, obviously sweating. He grabbed a fistful of his shirt and spat, “ _You like fucking other people’s wives!”_

There wasn’t space to swing a punch, not that it stopped him from trying. Mako dodged and pulled him round, the other patrons getting the wherewithal to give them space, all eyes turning to them as they gladly took in this spectacle.

“What are you talking about?” Mako shouted, “ _Are you out of your mind_?”

Iroh threw his scarf at him, hitting him square in the chest. Mako caught it and stared.

“I’m not _sleeping_ with Asami!”

“Hell you are!” Iroh seethed incredulously, reaching back.

“ _Iroh look around,_ ” Mako didn’t seem afraid like a guilty man would, and it gave the General pause, “What do you notice about _this bar_?”

Iroh’s brain worked overtime, clocking the walls, the DJ, the drinks, the lights.

“There’s no…fire exits?”

Mako pointed to the portrait behind the bar, a graffiti print of two men in crowns, kissing in a deep embrace.

Every patron was a man. 

“You’re _gay_.”

****

Korra gave a lopsided smile, cheek resting against the inside of Asami’s thigh. It was only when enough oxygen returned to her brain she got a hold of herself. Her visage became pensive, and watching it Asami tapped her chin with her finger to get her to look up at her.

She was breathless at the sight of her, from her vantage point her body, her abs, her breasts, her collar bones, her throat; peaks and valleys of a goddess she’d just conquered. Her jade eyes lidded with satisfaction, kindness and just a hint of bittersweet guilt.

“There’ll come a day when you look up at me and smile,” Asami told her, voice gentle, husky and soft, “and _breathe_ …and it’ll be so easy I promise you,”

Korra’s eyes dropped the the purpling bruise on her best friends wrist, dark sausage fingers remaining on her fair skin. She pulled the hand up and turned the soft part of her wrist so her lips could soothe the mark, before standing straight.

_“Run away with me,”_ Korra never thought she’d be brave enough to ask, but the second Korra was ruling now, the first and third cheering her on. “Get your clothes, your passport, we’ll drive, _we’ll go_ wherever you want,”

Asami froze, this was the closest Korra had come to laying her heart before her, honestly, without prompting. It was everything Asami should want, the easiest way out, but she hesitated.

“You were right,” she whispered incredulously, cupping her cheeks, mouth twisting with sadness, “I have to do this right,”

“That was crazy, _he was crazy,”_

_“I know,”_ Asami pressed a furtive kiss to her lips, “You deserve better than an affair Korra. You always have.” Gingerly she tugged at her, gently holding her close, strangely calm. Cradling her head to the jut of her shoulder.

“You can’t expect me to leave _you with him?_ ”

“I’m feeling brave Korra, just like you,” 

“‘ _Sami-_ ”

“I have to see this through.” Cold buffeted her as Korra stumbled back, shaking her head, throwing her gaze around for a confirmation that this was either a dream or a nightmare; the pot roast, now certainly cold, burnt and ruined, her naked best friend stepping down from the counter, scooping her hair behind her ears as she pulled on clothes. 

“I can’t watch you do this,”

“This is what you wanted.”

“I didn’t know _what he was_ ,”

“Neither did I,” Asami shook her head, standing on wobbly bandy legs. “He threatened all of us, if I turned out to be…it could be our businesses our lives…we…We have to be smart about this.”

Their entire relationship, Iroh had never shown a hair of the beast he had been tonight. Asami was blindsided, and afraid, but ultimately curious. If she poked the bear and then ran off, could he follow? He was connected, he was trained, and if not handled right, he could be vengeful. Asami had to throw herself in the path of what ever happened next, simply to stop it from obliterating Korra.

“Smart would be _never having an affair at all_ ,” Korra scoffed, reeling combing her fingers through her hair.

“You don’t mean that,” Asami breathed. 

“You’re _staying_?”

“I have to,”

Korra blinked, thoroughly, deeply through the fucking looking glass. She could only walk back, numb lips muttering.

“I can’t do this.”

****

“I need you to acquire sensitive information about my husband,” 

Asami marched into her office that day like she owned the place, which to be fair she did. Opal looked up from her secretaries desk, after swearing to herself up and down that she wouldn’t make eye contact with her boss for fear of seeing her face morph into that blissed out sex face she’d had while Korra was plowing her. The callous request made her glare, _how could she be so blatant?_

She followed Asami into her inner sanctum. She hadn’t paused to notice the fury emanating from one of her oldest friends.

“It’ll need to be off books, discreet, and traceless,” Asami thumbed the memos on her desk, long neglected since her honeymoon. Her new husband, volcanic eruption, inherited haunted house, father's death and illicit affair had taken up the lions share of her time.

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?” Opal snapped, that got her attention. Asami turned her face up at her, utterly mystified at Opal’s outburst. “You want me to dig dirt up on Iroh so you can justify, this- you…” her confidence wavered.

“What?”

“Fucking Korra!”

Asami’s eyes widened, making for the door behind her and slamming it shut.

“I mean God Asami, I know you’ve been going through a lot but playing her because you lost your father is just - _it’s so cold,_ and she cares about you _so_ much. You don’t even know how much she was hurting over you,”

“I _do_ ,” Asami splayed her hands on the door, eyes stinging with tears. The quiver in her voice surprising Opal, who paused her tirade to listen to the one scenario she hadn’t glorified, “I was so cold for so long and she…she didn’t tell me,” she hugged herself and turned an inch, “I felt this way the whole time but I…I didn’t know what it was…I just did what I was supposed to,” 

Finally Opal could see her, Asami Sato - titan of industry, tears weeping down her cheeks, red and jade eyes glassy.

“I’ve loved her since I was thirteen, it took me _twelve_ years to figure it out."

“Oh,” Opal whispered, “Oh _honey_ ,” the shorter girl embraced her, but Asami remained stiff. She’d done everything in her power to remain strong that morning, the General’s ball the last bastion of her relationship with Iroh she was sure of it. Partway doing him a favour, mostly deciding it could placate and distract him while she strategised her escape.

“I'm in love with her,” she confessed for the first time. 

****

“I don’t want to talk,” Asami told Iroh, descending the stairs, keeping a safe distance. She shouldered her long overcoat, that eerily matched his, over her red dress. 

She’d dressed tastefully, necklace a collar of gold and pearls that covered the expanse of her throat, and the bites Korra had accidentally left her there. Everything she’d worn was designed to distract, hair in an exquisite up do, long gold cuffs overing her forearms and the bruise Iroh had left there, earrings a matching metal, fringed and dangling; totally unique.

They sat in opposite sides of the limo, Iroh bristling, searching his mind for any way to apologise. 

“What’s going to happen now?” he asked, and she dared to glance his way.

“Let’s just get through tonight.” her face winced, an attempt at a smile, gone awry.

Thankfully the venue was close, the flashes of paparazzi already blinding through the window. A General’s Ball in Republic City was a political event, and a political event in Republic City was glamorous, and a veritable who’s who of, to Asami, who cares?

Asami tensed when she sensed his hand hovering at the small of her back. He turned to pose for photos, but she barely paid them any mind. 

“Iroh my boy!” a loud voice boomed when they entered, a portly man a glitter with what seemed like a cape of medals beckoned him. The General knew when to turn it on, and leading them to their tables without checking their coats, Asami let her eyes skate over the blinding pomp and circumstance. She draped her jacket over her chair, matching Iroh's beside it.

She caught sight of the ice swan on the far table, and the teenager spraying it to keep it cool. She recognised that undercut in a heartbeat.

Kai flinched when he turned and she was in front of her.

“Sorry,” she twisted her fingers anxiously, unsure of how to approach what she was sure something he didn’t know.

“She’s fine,” he told her earnestly, “By that I mean no injuries and she’s not drinking,”

“What is she doing?”

“Smashing,” 

“Oh,” 

“She misses you,”

“Oh?”

“She won’t say it, but you know she gets this _Asami look,”_

_“Oh,”_

_Sweet Kai, he knows not what he sees,_ she thought. 

“I’ll check on her soon I promise.”

He flashed her a smile and she felt weak. She didn’t deserve it, not after all she’d done.

She made for the table, ready to zone out and will the night away. It wasn’t until she sat on her chair that she remembered she’d wiled away Korra’s cigarettes, and her heart skipped at the memory of them. Korra’s lips, pluming smoke, like she was kissing the air on the night of her wedding. The beginning of the end.

She turned to the coat at her back and fed her finger in the inside pocket, searching for that crumpling noise that had been at her back. Her hand fastened around an unexpected shape, paper, a letter, the penmanship deep ingrained into the page. Iroh’s penmanship.

_Dear Asami,_

_If you’re reading this, I did the unthinkable. I have left you._

_I’m sorry that it had to be this way. I felt this the second we were engaged and when I did I prayed for it to be jitters. But the date came closer and I felt the world sliding past my feet._

_They say you fight more when you get engaged, that the stress of the wedding turns you both in to monsters fretting over every tiny decision, but strangely I let it all wash over me, and it was because this wasn’t anything I cared about. Not the color scheme, what we should serve, the toast to our futures - none of it. I sat down to write my vows and, well, I wrote this, the night before. I should have been thinking about this before we were even engaged._

_I’m looking at the way we lived, the roles we took on outwardly, all the while taking separate shifts in the same bed. Everything we built in that apartment, I was putting the bars up on my own prison._

_The time we did spend together was this or performing the art of monogamy in front of your business partners or friends. Hell, for everything I missed, Korra was ready to pick up the slack, and I was fine with that, but often I found myself wondering if I was even your friend much less a lover. I did the dishes, held your hand, binged shows on the idiot box. The only time we connected was during sex._

_I’m writing this at your desk, and I checked you have more pictures of Korra here than me, considering all she’s done for you it’s not that surprising. I guess it just goes to show you what you really care about, and I’m thinking what I’m feeling here is pretty mutual._

_I will always cherish the time I spent with you, and its difficult to say why I know it should be over when you’re as perfect as you are. It only got so far because we were going through the motions, never checking to see if the person we had chosen was right for us._

_I did that check today, finally, and I realised - You are not the centre of my world._

_You deserve better._

_Goodbye,_

_Iroh_

Her whole body was shaking, reading this, she wasn’t upset, she was angry.

This whole time he knew, and yet he married her; it was never about love. She remembered the flash, the reporters desperate for that perfect photo of the perfect couple. The portrait. It’s what she had wanted, it’s what he wanted, no longer.

She worked the ring from her finger, golden and diamonds and utterly perfect-looking, before folding it into his letter. Pushing it back into his coat pocket. 

This was her smoking gun, she knew. The race had started. She picked up her coat and made for the exit. 

She had somewhere else to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song 1- Bad Idea - girl in red  
> Song 2 - Criminal - Fiona Apple
> 
> Excerpt from the Honeymooners Chapter 18 - AKA the whole reason I wrote this fic
> 
> “You would’ve cheated on your husband?” Korra scoffed sceptically, but Asami answered without a beat.
> 
> “Yes.” 
> 
> Korra opened her eyes finally, and Asami could see the cogs shifting in her mind, processing it all.
> 
> “You said it yourself, he wasn’t right for me. It might’ve taken a month, a year, maybe more but it would have fallen apart. It was only a matter of time before I started to see you like I see you now. It only took a second of you catching me to get it.” 
> 
> “You think while you were crying and broken you were in any state to choose who you want to be with?”
> 
> “You were there. He wasn’t.” Asami stressed, “I would have been miserable, I would have made the worst mistake of my life and I would have come running to you. Maybe I would’ve felt trapped, I would have designed and redesigned that kitchen and spent my evenings pensively holding a wineglass like a desperate fucking housewife, but sooner or later, after you’d held me weeping, after I figured how good it felt to press my face into your neck, and fall asleep in your arms…how right it felt… I would’ve needed those moments, and stolen them as much as I could. I would have wanted you to kiss me… I would have asked you to fuck me against the marble counter tops with rose gold furnishings or absolutely rail me against the smart touch screen fridge while his pot roast goes cold on the stove.” 
> 
> PSA - 'pensively holding a wineglass like a desperate fucking housewife' is my favourite line


	13. When She Loved Me - Sarah McLachlan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When She Loved Me - Sarah McLachlan  
> Pink in the Night - Mitski

Ryu had taken a day off work from the diner for this. He was excited.

He’d ridden a bus into the city, wearing his best clothes, which so happened to be a suit he saved for weddings and funerals, including his own, one day god willing. 

A bumpkin wandering Republic City, camera strung around his neck, capturing the street signs and landmarks with new eyes. He could get used to this, and if the Republic City Chronicle liked his photos, he just might get that chance. 

He clutched the portfolio, tipped forward on his chest as though he would happily give it to the first reporter in there, and they’d be grateful for it. He managed to keep it together long enough to make it to the front desk.

“ _I’m here for my cousin,_ ” he said it in a rush. The receptionist somehow managed to look down on him from sitting. 

“Ryu!” Seung waved at him from behind the turnstiles. Ryu waved happily, bumbling through the barriers, ignoring looks of derision from the city folk who worked here. His cousin slapped his back. “Look first thing I’m going to tell you is to not get your hopes up,”

“ _Uh_ ,” 

“Cars aren’t that big here, the old Sato cars have a massive stain on them, what with the quote unquote ‘ _Corporate Genocide Cult_ ’ but hey, it’s a slow news week, and it’s good to see you buddy,”

“But this is an _exclusive_ , never before seen, the last car designed by the _Hiroshi Sato_ ; you can tell by the-”

“Yeah yeah, save it for the motor editor,” Seung waved at him, guiding him into the waiting boardroom. He gave him an encouraging thumbs up, sitting beside the editor, a serious woman in a yellow suit, sharp glasses, and claw like nails, balancing her chin on her thumb and forefingers. 

“Ryu this is Hou-Ting,”

“Good morning, lady and gentleman,” Ryu took a breath reciting the pitch he’d practiced on the bus on the way here. He took a step holding the portfolio aloft and tripped, sending photos of the hot rod red and gold supercar sprawling on the table top, “ _Ugh_ ,” 

Sueng pursed his lips to hide his smile, his editor bristling with agitation, before sliding the pictures in front of his beleaguered colleague. 

“Relax buddy,” he admired the shots, “these are nice, why don’t you put the negatives on the projector,” 

Ryu struggled with a breath, namely he forgot if it was meant to be going in or out, as he did as he was told.

“The emblem is genuine,” he gained confidence as he spoke about his passion, “you can tell by the cog, in ratio to the circle, it was his signature. It was Sato’s mission to imbue as many pistons in the long front, and by and large this was the biggest-” 

Hou Ting released a sharp, excited gasp.

“I know!” Ryu exclaimed, “From the outside I’m guessing a total of eleven or even _twelve_ pistons-“

“Is that?” Sueng mumbled.

“I believe it is,” Hou Ting finally cracked a smile, “Young man you do realise the Sato heiress is kissing a woman who is _not_ her new husband in the background of these photos?”

“ _Uhh_ ,” Ryu adjusted his glasses and gazed up at his work projected and enlarged on the screen. Tucked behind the menu of the diner, Asami had cupped Korra’s jaw and kissed the corner of her mouth, her eyes, her cheeks, Ryu had inadvertently snapped every smooch from the outside. The evidence was irrefutable, the emotion in their faces, the lingering gaze that followed. 

“Ryu this is,” Sueng grabbed his cousin by his arms, “ _this is amazing, this is the scoop of the century,”_

_“But the car,”_

_“Forget about the car,”_ Sueng pressed his nose closer to the picture, inspecting the woman. “Oh my god, the woman she’s - _that’s - We gotta call the Water Tribe Tribune,”_

“Ginger is going to love this,” Hou Ting _actually_ chuckled, Sueng had to pinch himself to check if he was having a fever dream or an acid flashback. 

“What does this mean?”

“Buddy! You’ve sold your first picture,”

“ _Really_?” Ryu was vibrating with excitement, his vision darkening around the edges.

“You work for me now, Sueng get him a badge, we’ll need follow ups.”

“For how much?”

“ _Name your price kid,”_

***

Asami stood alone on the street outside Korra’s storefront. Calm blue doors beckoned her home to harbour, but in the twilight she could only stare up at the lights of Korra’s home and feel doubt pin her where she stood.

_I can’t do this._ Korra’s last words to her echoed through her mind. As a result she mined her feelings, long after the cab she’d been delivered in had driven away. 

All paths led to Korra. She wanted her friend back. She wanted to spend the rest of her life making up for lost time. She wanted to kiss her lips, hold her sleeping, see her smile, and be the cause of it. In all of this she was certain, this and what she was about to do.

Kai’s van shocked her from her inertia. Still in his tails, he leapt from the drivers seat, opened the garage door, hopping back in the cab to park up. Korra wasn’t alone it seemed, and from the energy he gave off this wasn’t the end of his night. 

The firehouse fell to silence. Her nails found the golden cuffs on her wrist and she tick, tick, ticked by the seconds, evaluating.

_There’s no turning back now._ Asami mused, butterflies fluttering in her stomach for the first time in years. She was nervous, Korra actually meant something to her, and their very future rode on what happened next.

She took a breath, and finally a step. 

Lifting a hand to knock twice on the door that connected both Korra’s apartment stairwell, and the entrance to the studio. It relieved her to hear the pounding of feet on stairs, but it couldn’t prepare her for Korra ripping open the door and standing over her on the top step. Asami’s heart was in her throat, but the Ice Sculptor’s face was turned as she called back.

“ _Kai_ , couriers are here there’s no time to-” when she turned to face her she stopped, “ _Oh_ ,” 

Asami wrung her fingers in front of her, watchful of Korra’s stunned expression. 

“ _Wha_ -?” Kai’s cracking voice squeaked from behind Korra, wrestling out of his waistcoat without bothering to unbutton it, trapped and struggling.

“False alarm,” Korra shook her head, “Go ahead get changed, it’s fine.” she took a step, pulling the door behind her. 

“ _Hi_ ,” eyes bouncing from the face she’d committed to memory, to the rest of Asami’s extremities. Worry a glint in her eye. It took Asami a moment to realise what she was looking for was already covered and fading beneath her bracelet. 

“ _Hey_ ,” Asami flashed a brief mad smile, relief washing over her that Korra hadn’t rejected her on sight. 

Korra’s hand opened when she spied tears, but managed to steel herself from palming them.

Asami hadn’t meant to react this way at the mere sight of her, but the weight of everything overwhelmed her; their friendship had been forever changed, as had she. Gazing up at her now filled her with happiness, and dread, that she may lose Korra, even though every cell of her being was drawn to her magnetism. For the moment she was imbued by all those possibilities, paralysed and weeping.

Korra had every right to be furious with her, but here she was watching her with pursed lips and schooled features. 

On the surface it could almost be mistaken that nothing had ever happened between the two. 

_Get it together._ She berated herself, swiping errant tears and sucking in a breath. She levelled her gaze, realising that she hadn’t actually planned what she wanted to say, only what she was certain she wanted. Korra was everything to her, she just had to get her to see it.

Korra folded her arms against a chill that wasn’t there, and waited patiently for her to say _anything_. 

It was a talent of hers Asami had always admired, how Korra could speak more without a sound than anyone else with a thousand words. Despite her withholding demeanour, her eyes were lucid with that same wounded affection she’d always watched her with. Only now Asami understood why.

Another talent she admired was a proclivity for sass.

“So my business _is_ still standing,” Korra prompted, shrugging tensely, allowing a dry smirk.

“ _I’ve left him_.” it came out in a rush. Korra’s defensive aura dropped immediately. The world had rushed out from under her at those impossible words. “I left Iroh because I know what I want,” Asami wanted to reach out, to take her hand, to share in this moment of revelation, but she didn’t. Korra spooked easily, one sudden move could have her on the defensive. “It’s you,” 

Korra’s eyes flashed with that trapped light, her whole body tense.

“I’m in love with you Korra,” 

The words are a release. Valve now turned, she can only feel more tears falling. 

Korra turned her head incrementally, as though she were about to shake it in disbelief. This is Asami, _The Asami,_ the girl from childhood, from her dreams, standing on her doorstep, professing her love, actively choosing her and not the man she’d married. That perfect giant scary man.

A bomb had gone off in Korra’s mind, and as she reassembled the pieces, Asami couldn’t bare the silence. 

Her prodding nerves led her mouth to open and begin the filibuster of a lifetime.

“You have every right to be mad at me…and I’ll do whatever it takes for you to forgive me, Korra, _anything, I swear,”_ Asami’s face is turned up to her in earnest, she doesn’t blink, she doesn’t breathe, she only speaks; everything she’d held inside; everything she’d deduced; and more she hadn’t anticipated. 

The words flowed like water, easy and clear, like anything always was with Korra, her best friend, her everything more. 

“ _All our lives_ I thought you held missing pieces to this puzzle I was making of you. I had the corners and edges figured out and these _beautiful_ patches of this person I _adore_ , the rest of the pieces I thought you had kept from me - which I accepted because you were just so important, and I waited for you to show me but I…it never occurred to me that those pieces were inside me…I have so much to tell you but the long and short of it is; _I’ve actually loved you for a really long time_ , and I’m so sorry it took-”

She was cut off by fingers cradling her cheeks, and Korra bowing her head, sealing her mouth with a firm kiss. She could feel her tears press on her own cheeks as she reached up and balanced herself by gripping Korra’s overalls. Small gentle moans escaped the back of her throat, chest ablaze with joy as Korra kissed her breathless.

“I was so scared, what he’d do to you, that you’d hate me,” Korra whimpered against her lips, brows arched inward, the walls she’d built torn to rubble, and her voice gentle and broken, “That I left and I’d never see you again,” 

Korra cradled her face against her own as one would a chalice, a myth incarnate between her own two palms. 

“ _Never_ ,” Asami assured her, raising her own to hold her the same, “I had to know and now I know, it’s you Korra, I love you,” Asami whimpered between every press of her lips, “ _I love you, I love you, I love you,_ ”

Korra couldn’t process beyond kissing her harder each time she said it. 

Asami fingers tugged on the hair at her nape, her shirt, her arms, wandering hands frantic with joy, happily smearing scarlet sunrise over Korra’s mouth and jaw and cheek. 

“What are you doing?” she breathed, Korra had stopped, forehead braced over Asami’s, thumb arcing tenderly over her cheek.

“Framing this,” she smiled and Asami’s heart stopped. 

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Asami gasped, hands finding their place at the crux of her jaw, “I’ve waited so long to see you smile like that,” 

Korra was surprised by the laugh that escaped her then, dimples deep ingrained in both cheeks, fighting for breath, balance and absorbing every atom of this moment with a full and even smile. It was too much to take at once, so she buried it into the curve of Asami’s shoulder. 

Asami held her tight against her with all her strength. Biting her lip to keep from saying she loved her over and over to listen to what Korra was building herself up to say. Korra could only hold on to her, and feel the rush of a thousand daydreams coming true in an instant.

“You’re not saying it back,”

_“I’m not sure I’m alive_ ,”

Asami laughed, joyous fingers soothing the base of her head, carding through her hair. 

“I’ve loved you for a really long time too,” Korra sounded weak from the struggle, but her touch and cadence was just so soft, “I couldn’t get over you if I tried, and I _tried_ because I didn’t want to lose you,” she had more to say, years worth, but in the moment she settled with clutching her close. 

_We have time,_ the thought elated her, _we have time for all of it._

This was an alternative she hadn’t even let herself consider when they began on this dangerous road. Not Asami holding her, telling her she loved her the same, not Asami leaning back if only to kiss her soft and true, not her fingers entwining with her own, and for the first time noticing that she was no longer wearing her wedding ring.

She stood up straight, blinking through the tears, grinning madly. Formerly, it was her instinct to hide every sliver of joy she’d ever come across, purely to protect it. Asami have never guessed by how much until it was finally out in the open. In a moment it broke her heart to realise it, only to have it instantly mended by the expression of peace on her best friend’s face. 

Asami could only feel the slide of that last piece of the puzzle, Korra’s taunting _you don’t know me, and never will_ half-smile had finally become;

_“I love you, Asami. I always have,”_

It was a warmer confession than the one Korra had been planning. She’d imagined Asami ripping her heart out of her chest to subsequently punting it across the Republic City Skyline, and Korra pretending to be fine with it just to keep her. Being confessed to first let her feel safe enough to say it the way she always had to herself, the same gentle way she said her name after all these years. Although she did her level best to keep it hidden, she’d imbued her _Asami’s_ with her feelings hiding in plain sight.

“Korra! Little help?” Kai called from inside the shop, and it seemed to snap her from her indulgent lovesick languor.

“You guys are working late,” Asami didn’t think anything of it, until Korra’s face dropped just a little, only to shake her head.

“We fell behind on commissions and I’ve been kind of _preoccupied_ and there’s been only so much Kai can do on his own until now- come inside, get comfortable upstairs, we’ll talk, we won’t be long,” she tugged on her hands, and Asami followed her lead, raising up her skirt to step over the top step. 

When the door closed behind her she noted the suitcase and duffel bag on the landing beside them, and Korra stared down at them guiltily.

“You’re packed,” Asami breathed, “for your trip?”

“I couldn’t bring myself to leave,” Korra loosened her grip, ready for Asami to do the same. Only she didn’t, slender fingers wound more tightly with her own and she brought her knuckles up to her lips kiss them. 

“I’m glad that you didn’t,” her tone was somber and quiet, much like their pillow talk that they seemed to suit so well. 

Korra’s smile was back, coupled with a blush and that adorable neck grab tic. 

“Come see,” she told her, matching her tone, fingers still knotted. She led her into the studio, to the freezer where the bulk of the work was usually stored, now empty say for one enormous sculpture. 

“Kai made this, all by himself,” Korra told her, admiring her apprentice’s work with smug satisfaction.

When Korra had just established the shop, she’d filled the frozen windows with her art, she favoured sculptures of myth, Raava’s, Vaatu’s, creatures of legend, as well as the obligatory swans, cupids and ice vodka luges. Still it was an odd choice of store for Kai to want to rob, he even had brought a cooler with him.

Korra had heard the scuffle as he struggled with heavy doors, collared him on his way past the stairs to her apartment.

_“What do you think you are doing?”_

_“Stealing from you,”_ Korra had laughed at him, tossing the boy on his ass in the shop while she inspected his haul.

_“Honest thief! You don’t get many of those,”_ She mused, _“particularly ones with good taste…I have forty sculptures in my shop, forty staples of my trade and yet, you took the only one I can’t remake myself,”_

In her palm she balanced the lion turtle she’d been given at the hotel earlier that night. The elite of Republic city had come to gawk at Hidetsugu Ueno himself, ice master from across the sea, to let his creations of roses and birds and exquisite snowflakes melt in their whiskey without a second look. 

Asami had gotten Korra the in because she knew how desperate she was to meet him. In her hospital bed she’d kept the newspaper clippings of his rare visits to the city while she plotted her escape. 

_“Why this?"_

_“I saw you with that in the alley and the ice maker behind the kitchens,”_ Kai shrugged, _“Next thing I know followed you from the Palm,”_

Most patrons of the eve had come armed with oodles of cash, Korra had only her carving knife and a cooler of ice, not unlike Kai’s. She’d come to learn if only for a night, and Ueno imparted wisdom and the most beautiful thing Korra had ever seen. He’d made it in seconds, before the ice had even begun to sweat. Korra cherished it as though it were her very soul, and later that night Kai had broken in to swipe it.

_“What would you even do with this?”_ she asked, replacing it in the cooler, clutching it to her chest.

Kai only shrugged like the lost sullen teenager he was. On the floor he was strangely calm. He’d been in every kind of trouble that getting caught was nothing to particularly worry about. She noticed his green eyes would follow the prize in her hand wherever she held it. If there was one think she understood about the little stranger, it was that look.

_“You want to learn to make it?”_ she asked.

Some years later, that was exactly what he did, only a hundred times bigger. In Korra’s absence, and preoccupation with Asami, he’d taken it upon himself to sculpt and hone his craft while no-one was looking. 

This Lion Turtle was gnarled and ancient looking, proud tusks, human eyes, wide nostrils and a shell adorned with a thick forest. It even had structure under a faux ice ocean, as well as above it. Asami recognised the silhouette of the Banyan Grove Tree on its back, and the two tiny little girls sat admiring the view on the cliff’s edge.

“How did he-?”

“He asked for some photos for inspiration. I couldn’t let him use my notebook any more because,” Korra’s blush crept up her neck, and she coughed, “I was using it,” she deflected, avoiding eye contact. “I figured if I was leaving, we might as well get Kai some accolades so the clientele would trust him. This is going to an Ice Sculpting festival up north. We were going to be closing shop for our trips.” 

“Truck’s here!” Kai announced. 

Asami’s fingers grazed the plaque, carved in a ring around the edge, perfectly inscribed with the wisdom from the legend. She knew it vaguely, but only then did it resonate so deeply within her. 

_The true mind can weather all the lies and illusions without being lost. The true heart can touch the poison of hatred without being harmed. Since beginningless time, darkness thrives in the void, but always yields to purifying light._

She could only think of Korra’s eyes as she read it, bright at the end of a long, arduous, secret tunnel, waiting for her to see the truth. After inspecting the circuit she took Korra’s hand again, and leaned to kiss her temple. 

“That boy needs a raise,”

“We’ll see how many awards he gets,” Korra laughed.

“What if someone else snags him?” Asami teased stepping behind her crossing her arms around her stomach as they admired together, Asami’s chin balancing on Korra’s shoulder. 

“They’ll have me to deal _with_ …” she trailed off at the press of Asami’s lips over the crux of her throat, and the subsequent nose snuggling there for brief reprieve against the cold.

“I’ll see you upstairs,” 

“Yeah…you too,” Korra could only smile dumbly at her and watch her go. 

“Hey Boss, you- _your face!”_ Kai balked, pointing at her with an accusing finger, more precisely the lipstick prints on her mouth and neck. “Is somebody here? Is it June? Do we have to protect the shop?” He snagged the closest tool he could find, a small wooden mallet and welded it conspiratorially.

“It’s fine Kai, it’s just Asami,” This only made Kai’s panic double.

“Just Asami? - _Asami kissed you, married Asami!”_ Korra gripped his arms and gave him a sharp shake. Still smiling like a madwoman which, to Kai, was just as disconcerting as the last time he’d found out she was involved with a married woman, more so.

_“She’s leaving him,”_ Korra assured him, and to be able to say it was a balm that soothed her burning tortured soul better than any ice, “She’s leaving him _for me_ ,” Kai watched as tears fell, several pieces clicking into place as he saw his boss, happy for perhaps the first time since he’d known her. 

“She’s the perfect married woman?” 

Korra could only nod, before she could let him go the boy lunged into her arms. It was unexpected, but entirely sweet. 

“Don’t let her husband punch you okay?” he mumbled against her shoulder.

“I’ll try not to,” she laughed ruffling his hair.

***

Asami liked Korra’s apartment in the dark. The streetlamp from the outside poured in the floor to ceiling windows. During the day, when she was here, it had been parties with their friends, but at night it was always wound up just the two of them. Impromptu sleepovers devolving to Korra situating herself on the couch protesting when Asami would join her, tipsy and cute and prying all the secrets she could. 

_How did you survive it?_

Asami spied the sketchbook that had formerly been covered in frost. It called to her, the blue prints, the doodles, the one place Korra had been vulnerable with her feelings however inadvertent. 

Asami smiled down at the drawing of herself with the crab, lying on the beach, smiling up at her from the page. She surpassed her place from last time, Korra had added sketches of the cliffs at the Banyan Grove, now wilfully refusing to sketch plans and just her memories before they faded. 

A cabin solitary and beautiful in the middle of a storm. The barrel of Toph’s gun and the tiny old woman holding it.

A page was dedicated to Asami standing waist deep in the lake fully clothed, long lustrous hair matted to her, make up smudged, skin glistening, flecks of rain frozen in the moment. Despite everything that should have made Asami look like a drowned rat, Korra saw her as a siren, searing jade eyes daring and those full lips with that gentle curve alluringly inevitable.

An entire page of hand studies, intricate, and difficult and entirely gorgeous. Asami found she could guess the memories while drawing her fingers over the lines. 

Their hands entwined, gripping hard in the rain, water droplets beading over taut skin, Asami’s wedding ring jarring between Korra’s strong fingers. The next was Asami’s knuckles turned white, entangled in the bedsheets, from an angle that could only have been looking up at them from between her legs, and the follow up of Korra’s fingers knotting with hers, the second sketch her fingers opening to take them, the third those fingers knotted together in a fist of passion. 

Fingers entangled underwater distorted by the ripples, but clear.

Asami’s heart was pounding from page to page, the next was a two page spread, Korra had started with a hand on the left but kept going to the right over the crease. The fingers slightly curled, relaxed after so much clinging, both arms bent at the elbows in the afterglow. Korra had tenderly sketched her lithe shoulders; supple breasts pert, parting naturally laid on her back, her elegant neck and angled collar bones dappled with those exquisite mouth shaped bruises. That halo of black mermaid hair splayed out on the pillow beneath her head. The mischievous smile Asami was only half aware that she had given, nibbling her lipstick-smeared lower lip as her chest heaved, and the sweat on her skin began to wick with Korra’s kisses. 

Asami had suspected then, the way Korra had looked at her, she was committing her to memory, now she had absolute proof.

The next page was a landscape Asami, ending where the sheet bunched over her navel, lying on her side watching her wake. Lips curled up at the corners, coy and welcoming. 

Korra had drawn her in her ill fitting _Gao-Ling Flying Boars_ uniform, holding a strawberry rose to her lips before she took a bite. Asami dared to believe she had even made her look cuter than she was, in her high pony and rosy cheeks, gazing lovingly at the flower she had been given.

_If this is all I ever get, I can die happy, loving her all the same._

Asami read the inscription over and over. Korra loved her, more than words could ever transcribe, it showed in her sketches and the way she drew her; precious and daring. 

She flinched when a drop smudged the last word, and before she could swipe it from the page a thumb was grazing her cheek. 

“ _Hi_.” Korra breathed, to which Asami could only respond by standing and pulling her into her sudden kiss. “I was worried you’d think I was a freak if you found out I drew you… _naked_ ,” she came away blushing, bouncing her eyes.

“What is your memory _eidetic_?” Asami laughed, heat rising up her throat as she felt both admired and aroused. She resolved to kissing her cheek gratefully, combing her fingers through her hair. 

Korra was laughing too, palming her tears and feeling her muscles release from their anxious coil with every press of Asami’s mouth to her feverish blushing skin. 

“I love you so much,” Asami crooned into the crux of her throat, nipping there, melting her with a single move. What a victory it was to say it.

“I love you too,” Korra whispered back softly, basking in the natural unnatural roll of those words on her tongue, palm resting over the satin on her stomach, “You look really beautiful tonight,” Asami pulled back at the second first of the night. Korra never willingly gave her compliments in case she gave away her hand. It was everything Asami never knew she needed.

“So do you,” she balked and Korra rolled her eyes.

“ _Shut up_ ,”

“I mean it,” Asami smiled at her teasingly, fingers twisting into Korra’s clothes letting her know she was entirely serious, “your overalls are really doing it for me, and yours _arms_ and neck and eyes and _shut up and just kiss me_ ,” she tugged on the clasps to meld their lips, now that they had started it seemed impossible to stop. 

“Wait, wait, _wait_ , slow down what happened tonight?” Korra guided them to sit on the edge of the couch. “Did he get angry? What did he say?”

“I…” Asami took her hands, and held them tight. Well aware she had made a crucial error. All the giddiness and fervour that had elated her to this point started to sink. “I actually haven’t talked it through with him yet, I just, I had to get out of there, I couldn’t stand pretending for another second,”

“So he doesn’t _know_?”

“He might, or he _will_ , please listen,” for the first time Korra didn’t shut down completely, instead she was open and intent on hearing every word, “He knew when we were getting married that we were without substance or any real love, and I was…you know how I was.”

“How do you know this if you haven’t _spoken_ to him?”

“I found his vows,”

“That muddled drunk nonsense speech he gave at your wedding?”

“ _The real ones_ , he wrote them out and basically wrote a break up letter, he never loved me, we were just trying to… _match the portrait._ ”

Korra fell silent, playing with her fingers, mulling her words.

“Then why did you marry him?” she whispered quietly, “I refuse to believe that you’re that shallow,”

“Do you remember how I said, _I’ve actually loved you for a really long time?”_ Asami’s thumbs where running circles on the back of her hands now, pain marring her features as she watched them, love flooding her senses when Korra flexed her fingers, showing her she intended to stay.

“I had a crush on you when I was thirteen,” her lips felt numb as she spoke, and every blink dropped tears into the air between them, “My parents figured it out and they…whatever my father did it formed this mental block.” 

Her throat locked, until Korra squeezed her fingers, and she could find solace in those bright blue eyes. She saw her fury, ignited white hot at the mere suggestion that anyone had hurt her. Korra’s protectiveness spurred her words.

“We held hands for the first time at Banyan, do you remember? I slipped and you grabbed, and then I faked so you’d keep grabbing and then…I didn’t let go, until we reached the top and…they’d seen us, and he took me aside and he said to me ‘ _true family_ , _is a mother and a father and their natural born children_ …’ and that I should ‘ _save my hand holding for the man who will complete mine’_ ,”

She dropped her gaze, feeling weak, feeling ashamed. 

“It escalated when the headmaster at my school called and told him I’d been writing your name, over and over, in hearts and my name with…your name,” she unlatched the bracelet at her wrist to show the bruise there. Asami met her eyes then, and wished she hadn’t, that she shielded her from the unsaid. Korra’s features twisted in horror, because she could read then what Asami was unwilling to say. She dipped her gaze again, and glossed over it. 

“My mom found out what they were doing to me; _punishing_ me for loving you and-”

“She kept inviting me over when he wasn’t there,” Korra whispered, fingers poised over the nape of her neck. “She wanted us to stay friends,”

“It was never the same, but I just, when she died I switched off, I repressed so much, I crushed all of these memories and feelings because I thought they were _wrong_ …I did what I thought I was supposed to do, and by the time he went to jail, _the damage was done_. I couldn’t see you the way I saw you then, or now, but I…needed you. That’s all that was left…the home I’d left in you,”

She looked up finally, the trail of tears on Korra’s cheeks glinting in the darkness. 

“I’m so sorry Korra,”

“I had no idea,” Korra’s voice was tight and husky.

“I didn’t know until I kissed you, before then I was just fascinated by your love life, _crushing_ on you _again_ ,” Asami felt herself laughing, and it wasn’t the good laugh, “and then it came back in pieces but when I realised how you felt it was like I could see your soul finally,” she reached out to press her palm over her heart, thumb bumping clasps and zips, “and how it reflected my own,”

Korra’s fingers wrapped around the hand on her chest, her free hand cupping her jaw. Asami fell into place, mouth meeting hers in a well-earned sweet kiss. 

_“I folded his ring into his vows and put them in his coat where I found them and came straight here, I couldn’t waste another second being apart_ -” 

Korra was developing a habit of silencing her with kisses, one that Asami could only thoroughly enjoy. These kisses were more intense than anything she’d allowed prior. Every barrier that had been between them had been broken down, Asami was free, and Korra was free to love her. To kiss her with everything she had, not to persuade or entice or lure her away but to just adore her. 

Asami had never known such reprieve, as Korra’s hands worked around her neck to unclasp her golden choker. The heiress balanced her forehead on her jaw as she watched her break apart the cuffs about her wrists, and drop them out of sight. Korra's thumb traced the faded bruise, her touch barely there, but it moved Asami all the same. Next she gave attention to the hickeys she’d left in passion on her throat, her fingertips gracing them, before her lips would follow, tender and gentle as Asami had ever known. Her heart was on display, singing, pounding, cocooning her in waves of incapacitating affection.

“I love you Korra,”

“I love you too,”

Korra smiled and Asami smiled back, chest bursting with hope she hadn’t dared to feel in decades. She cradled her cheek and kissed her once again, growing deeper and more passionate than before.

Those skilled hands let slip the coat Asami had forgotten was still draped over her shoulders. Soon after the dress pooled at her hips. Asami buckled forward with need, biting her neck, yanking on her zipper. Korra’s own hands stroked, her neck, her cheeks, her ears, smoothing away frantic nervous energy, fulfilling such a simple need to touch and be touched. They barely noticed the dropping of an earring falling onto the couch with an imperceptible thump. 

So lost in each other, that when Asami instinctively straddled her, Korra could stand without interrupting her exploratory kisses with out expiration. 

Asami gasped into her mouth, gripping her arms, marvelling at how she never seemed to lose balance even as she stepped out of her overalls, and carried her to the bedroom. Korra lowered her onto the mattress, it was then Asami took it upon herself to tug her vest over head. They were shifting through motions they’d come to know so well, yet each one was tinged with deep breathtaking emotions neither had felt prior. Four hands fumbled with clothes, tugging Asami’s underwear past her hips, unclasping Korra’s bra and tossing it, manoeuvring over the furs of Korra’s bed and being enveloped by the sweet scent Asami found herself missing minute to minute. 

There was a moment of silent, naked, honesty, Korra's hips between Asami’s legs, her fingers teasing the slake of her wetness pooling there, the patter of gentle cleansing rain tapping on windows. Asami cupped her cheeks, knowing they were once again on this cusp, staring into that eclipse, steeped in raw emotion. 

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” Korra breathed, eyes closing, lips a quiver until Asami pressed her own there.

“I’m here,” she whispered back. “I’m staying,” she added for good measure, nosing her cheek, “Wherever you are,”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Korra cradles her neck as she kisses her hard, fingers slipping inside her like a key into a lock, Asami makes a sharp moan into her mouth, incensed by this intense feeling of belonging to her, body and soul, taking Korra’s wrist and guiding her free hand over her breast that she’d sketched so perfectly. Everything about this is slow and savouring, and slow Korra goes as her fingers stroke Asami inside and out, her hips matching them in a counter rhythm that has her shaking beneath her. 

Asami tugs at her and reaches between Korra’s legs, fingers finding her mons and parting her, desperate for closeness. She reacts instinctively, spreading her knees, slotting her hips solidly over Asami’s, their hands working almost back to back. All the space between them evaporates as Korra keeps a solid pressure for her to grind against her, and Asami uses her legs to lock her in to match. 

They’re together, fusing as one in a tangle of cantering hips and wanton sounds, Asami watches her face change, what she could only guess at in flashes before, Korra no longer conceals in the crook of her neck but above her, brows pinched, eyes slick with tears, vulnerable and ecstatic. Asami doesn’t stop herself when she wants to say _I love you,_ she paints the words with her lips, and into her skin, her hair, her hands. 

Korra saves it, ever the tactician against a worthy opponent, when they’re balanced on that edge together, when she can feel Asami’s core clenching around her fingers, and her own a stroke away from oblivion, she hovers her lips by the shell of her ear and tells her she loves her with a firm press of her hips.

They’re rewarded with the orgasm of a life time, Asami’s nails dig into Korra’s back, leaving marks, as they both ascend to the ethereal plane, twitching wildly, totally entwined with the other. 

When Asami comes out of it, Korra is still inside her, whole body trembling into her, eyes unfocused, breaths coming out in fragments as sweat jewels on the side of her throat.

“Hey,” Asami’s throat is raw from crying out, “Honey look at me,” she cups her jaw and strokes the apples of Korra’s cheeks until awareness fills her eyes once again. “ _Hey_ ,” she smiles relieved, as Korra watches her, recognising that, even though she is in her own bed, this is not a dream.

“Again?” she punctuates the request by flexing her fingers, and Asami responds; angling her hips to better take her. 

She can only let out an embarrassingly overwhelmed “ _Mmhmm!”_ before muffling her groans with her lips against Korra’s. 

A sort of desperation they’ve never felt before takes over, Asami’s forehead braced over Korra’s temple, intent on listening to all the sounds of her jagged breathing, and the white noise of the rain sheltering them from everything else, from every doubt that could ever creep their way. 

In the small hours of the morning, after they’ve shared enough climaxes that they’d surpassed all the days and nights they’d had before, Asami lay on her stomach, every bone popped deliciously from their sockets, her body aching with delight, and utterly spent as Korra kisses her path up her spine. Tasting her sweat slick on her tongue, without commentary, fingers kneading her glutei. 

She knew in the morning she’d have to find Iroh, face the music, but with Korra at her back, and in her future, it all seemed trivial. She was set. 

Asami’s eyes open just a sliver, as teeth graze the small of her back, and she finds herself gazing over the pillow she’d been hugging to the photos on Korra’s bedside. 

Two best friends in their gi’s, holding medals and gurning for the camera. 

_Look at us now._

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When She Loved Me - Sarah McLachlan - yes I know its from Toy Story, and its the GAYEST SONG I'VE EVER HEARD
> 
> Pink in the Night - Mitski


	14. Playing With Fire - Nikki's Wives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nikki's Wives - Playing with Fire  
> Freddie Mercury - Love Me Like There's No Tomorrow

Asami wasn’t sure she was out of her nightmare until Korra’s lips soothed her shoulder blade. She was still shaking, eying the walls waiting for them to bleed, for the angry morphing faces returning from the dead to punish her for all she’d done. 

“You’re okay,” Korra reached around her, untangling her fist from the sheets. “It’s not real,” 

Asami remained stiff, only allowing Korra’s fingers to twine with hers, staring ahead without seeing, or blinking. The incidentals were fading, but the fear remained the same. She was lost trying to recall the details, trying to rationalise them and what they meant. All the while Korra’s fingers were deft, and anchoring, tucking her hair behind her ear from behind before sliding her arm under her bare ribs and sealing her front to Asami’s back.

Her embrace created an emotional Heimlich, and Asami let out the breath she’d been holding, cold tears following that slow path across the bridge of her nose. Korra kissed her neck, for no other reason than to say she was there, warm breath pluming over her clavicle. 

“Is it comforting if I say ‘I’ve got you?’” 

“Yeah, yeah I think it is,” Asami found her smile, nightmares sucked but having her girlfriend’s naked body pressed against her back certainly helped. 

_Girlfriend,_ she thought, _I’m getting ahead of myself._ She drew their hands to stroke them against her lips. _Gotta lose the husband first._ She added wryly. 

“Tighter,” she requested instead of voicing her schemes aloud.

Korra did as she was told, arms flexing, tugging her snug, providing the compression that Asami craved. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“It’s fading,”

“That’s my line,” Korra nosed into her hair, pressing her lips again, “you wanna assume the position?”

“I like this one better,”

“Me too,” Asami could hear the smile in her honeyed voice, and her acute need to see it full and sweet, had her turning, had her fingers instinctively cradling her jaw.

“ _Stop_ ,” Korra chuckled, tucking her grin into the pillow before Asami’s kiss could reach further than the corner of her mouth. “ _Morning breath,_ ” she lamented, laughter only increasing at every press of her lips. 

“Compromise,” she teased into her cheek, lips falling onto her jaw, guiding Korra’s hands to her back, twisting gratefully into her, legs interlocking, “ _Tighter_ ,” 

“You like me like this,” Korra stated, weighing her down, now above, Asami’s nimble arms reaching up,crossed over her shoulders.

Asami only hummed, fingers carding through her hair, scritching her scalp that quickly had Korra boneless. She was successfully disarming all the little voices telling her this wasn’t real. While Korra was in awe of it, one voice was louder than the rest.

“What are you going to do?” 

“ _Shh_ ,”

“Asami…”

_“Lay like this_ , and sleep for,” Asami spied the clock, “three more hours, at least, and…it’s too early to think about breakfast, how do you feel about pancakes?” she yawned as if to punctuate her point, sleepily nuzzling the top of Korra’s head that had taken residence on her chest.

“You know what I mean,” Korra chided gently, she was of course referring to the husband Asami planned to leave for good, which truly couldn’t happen unless they spoke a final time.

_“I know_ ,” Asami sighed, tightening her grip incrementally, “We’ll talk, we’ll plan, but just, let me have this a while longer,” 

“What is this exactly?” Korra chagrinned, already settling into her embrace, having heard the notion of sleep her body was already being pulled there with every twitch of Asami’s fingers.

“Peace,” she answered simply, “The morning after the night before I told you I’m in love with you,” her voice gentle and clearly soothed by their position. Korra opened her eyes and felt her lips curling up at the corners.

“That did happen didn’t it?”

“Ssh sleep now,”

“Convince me it wasn’t all a dream,” Korra teased. 

“Will you sleep if I tell you I love you?” Asami didn’t wait for a response before adding, “Because I do, Korra, I love all of you, your sounds, your laugh, your lips, your mind, your _sass_ , this dimple that I know is on your cheek right now even though I can’t see you,” her thumb fluttered over Korra’s cheek as she failed to stifle another yawn. Chest rising and falling, easing Korra up and down with her breath, “and your _bed._ It has your smell and _god_ I love how good you smell…” Asami’s ramble faded as sleep began to take her. “You’ve always smelled like home,” 

Korra listened to her heartbeat slowing with a grin she couldn’t wipe off even if she’d wanted to. Her dread had dimmed down to a subtle simmer, the one selfish bone in her body cheering her on as she closed her eyes and let that sound lead her to her dreams.

In the hollow spot where she could control her thoughts, the memories of all the moments that had led to this one fluttered fresh and bright behind her eyelids, from the first kiss to the last. 

Before it all, her trysts with strangers had always been a means to an end, forgetting the world for a while, the world that held her so tenderly in this moment. 

Korra would have an itch and someone from a bar would help her scratch it, and aside from the occaisional teeth and or nail marks, the experience never lingered. Korra considered herself something of a people pleaser, if she couldn’t love who she wanted, she could make a show of it in bed, regardless of how empty she was inside. 

Sex had been transactional, and Korra had been content with that.

Of course, with Asami, all that had changed, how could it not? She seemed to find the buttons Korra had long since neglected in an instant, simply by being given the chance. She gave Korra everything she didn’t know she needed. Asami could always play her feelings like a piano concerto, she’d was a prodigy at whatever she tried, and their intimacy together had been no different. She applied the same care and dedication and skill to loving Korra, and every time she conducted symphonies for an audience of one. This included the loving kisses before, the care they took, and cuddling after, that sense of safety that enveloped them both more precious than any wealth in the world.

Immense longing had been transformed into tangible passion, burning Korra inside out in the most exquisite way. When her best friend had undressed her for the first time, she had stood frozen inside the cabin rocked by the storm. Korra was stunned by a tsunami of unfamiliar feelings being returned, as Asami slipped soaked clothes from shivering skin, sensing her hesitation, peppering her with victorious kisses, until she _laughed._

Korra could replay the memory and its exquisite nuances. Korra drifted into unconsciousness for the first time swept up in that unbridled joy.

When she woke, she found her love replaced by her pillow. She would’ve panicked if not for the muttered curse behind the door, ajar leading to the open plan kitchen. She could smell fried dough, and burned batter and her grin returned.

“ _Shitfuck,”_ when Asami melded the words that was a sure, yet rare, sign things weren’t going her way. Korra tugged on an old t-shirt and shorts, paying no mind to the choice as she was curious what was left of her kitchen. 

Asami had reclaimed her Gao-Ling Running club shirt, but opted for a pair of Korra’s loose, low hanging sweatpants. When she spied her watching, tying her hair up in a bemused smile her jade eyes widened.

“ _No, get back into bed,”_ the frying pan in front of her gave a spackling noise and she flinched, “I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed,” she lamented, but before she could finish the sentence Korra’s heart was already squeezing, no wait, the opposite. _Bursting_.

“How long should I be waiting for?” Korra’s lips pursed, and twitched with the energy it took to hold back her laughter. Asami examined her surroundings, instinctively scooping hair behind her ears that was already tied up.

“Four to forty minutes.” she surmised. Korra had to bite her lip now, nodding, smiling unabashedly. She paced to the opposite side of her kitchen island, sitting on the stool, taking in her recital. 

Asami gazed thoughtfully at a notebook she had stolen, fingertips prone of her lips as though tapping out the secrets into her brain from there, heel of her palm balanced on her chin. 

_Asami Sato, the Thinker._

“This,” Korra tipped the flour bag, weightless and empty over with her finger, “was full yesterday,” Asami’s eyes snapped to her, guilt a flicker in the green. “How many have you gone through?”

“Attempts or iterations?”

“Stacks?”

Asami bounced her eyes, cracking an egg and moving empty plates side by side, ready for launch.

“These are _Mach Seven,”_

_“Seven.”_ Korra rushed around the island now in search of the missing failed attempts, but Asami caught her. 

_“Don’t look in the trash,”_ She urged, before lips pressed hard over hers. “Morning breath,” Asami teased, only angling her head to fit her mouth more securely against her own. 

“You’re a maniac,” Korra kissed her gratefully. 

“I will not lose another!” Asami twisted from her arms to snap off the burners, tools now prone, scooping eggs, bacon, and glorious looking pancakes moves she had definitely practiced.

Korra watched from her vantage point above her shoulder, barely registering her own arms snaking over Asami’s stomach as she watched her work, as involved in her mission has she was. Using a sieve to dust icing sugar in a perfect snow-storm, arranging bacon strips just so, eggs sunny side up and bright as eyes. 

“I always knew this day would come,” she leaned back into Korra as she gazed at her work.

“You’ve engineered the perfect breakfast?”

“Hmm, and I’ve fallen in love with it, I don’t think I can- _hey_!” She protested when Korra took a fork to her plate and dug into the rump of a perfect pancake. 

“I’m sorry babe,” Korra muttered around her mouthful of flapjack and syrup, “you told me to steer you away from ever becoming a mad scientist.” 

“ _Babe_?” Asami laughed at the clear blush rising up Korra’s neck. 

Korra’s defences melted, blue eyes glittering as she gazed lovingly at Asami’s creation.

_“This is really good,”_

“Sit down,” Asami rolled her eyes, pecking her lips, nudging her with her hip as she took the plates to serve on the other side of the island.

Korra hopped back remembering this was her apartment, and that she could play host too. Orange juice once paired with her hangovers, would go well with pancakes, she was sure.

When she sat beside her pouring glasses, she was swayed for but a moment by how normal it felt, domestic and as Asami took her fingers between her own, right. 

“What do you say?” Asami teased, glowing with pride at her first bite, fishing for compliments she knew Korra wanted to give from the look she was giving her now.

Only Korra found her throat tight, and an inherent unwillingness to relinquish Asami’s fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” she wanted to live in this, she wanted to feel the good feelings and adore what was happening and take a goddamn photo, but in that moment she was plagued. Gripped by the idea that they should have been doing this so much sooner. Asami could only look puzzled as she listened. 

“I let you get too far with him.” Korra went on, gaze steady, “I let my feelings cloud the way I saw your relationship and I couldn’t see you needed me. I wanted to think you did but, I just couldn’t. And then he hurt you.” Korra chewed on her lip and let her gaze drop. “I’m just- _I’m so sorry, Asami_.” 

The palm that slipped from her grip cupped her cheeks, not to kiss, but cradle, her thumb swiping soothing arcs that only made Korra’s heart wrench that much more. 

“I’ve been such a lousy friend to you,” 

“That’s not true,” Asami crooned, “you showed me a fraction of what you felt and you were still the best friend I had…and I knew something was bothering you but I never pushed you, there’s so much I wanted to know and I should’ve just asked.” 

“Like what?”

“I,” Asami hesitated and found herself blushing.

“Don’t be shy,” Korra’s hands mirrored her, tipping her chin up to meet her gaze, “No more limits.”

“Best friends talk about boys,” As soon as Asami uttered the words she flushed, the feint feeling of being twelve ever present, “or at least I did and you never…”

“I hate to break it to you but I’m kinda involved with you now,” Korra smirked, face hot, reaching back to grip the back of her neck, “There is no one else,”

“What about before?” 

Korra’s face fell.

“I never really dated, after Mako, after healing from the accident.”

“But you were seeing people?”

“That’s a nice way to put sleeping around,” Korra turned to her meal, but made a point to keep their hands tangled on the tiles between their plates.

“Like _getting lucky_?” 

“Or unlucky,”

“Hmm yes I remember June,” Asami teased, and Korra let out a surprised laugh. 

“No-one compared,” Korra watched her thumb tracing the arc of hers. 

“To the idea of me?” 

Korra’s eyes flickered to hers in a moment of earnest clarity.

“To _you_ … just being your friend, being important to you, it was enough, until it wasn’t and I…” 

“Pretended.” Korra started to pull away until Asami held her fingers steady. “I did too…when I knew.”

“Oh,”

“One second Iroh, and the next, when I closed my eyes, you…I kept them closed.” She smirked sadly, “Wasn’t the same though.”

“What a pair we make,” Korra whispered wryly, watching their hands. 

“I think technically we’re a couple now,” Asami reminded, chest alight, lips curling. “Eat your pancakes before they’re cold, they’re perfect you know.”

“Yeah you are,” It didn’t make grammatical sense, but it was sentimental enough to have Asami leaning over to kiss her best friend on the temple. 

_First Iroh, and then I’ll ask her._ She compiled a to do list in her head as she ate, possessions she wanted to gather from her own house, her mother’s rings, her diary, for some reason the pink radio came into her head. Iroh’s reaction being an unknown variable, she planned for the worst internally to have a go bag, enough clothes to hide out for a little while, to keep Korra with her, perhaps the cabin in the woods.

She imagined a scenario where Korra was with her, holding her hand, and the gun and pantry came to the fore.

“You can’t come with me today,” she didn’t look up from her meal, “you have to promise me,” 

“I’m not going to leave you to-”

“ _Promise_ me Korra,”

Korra regarded her from her seat, someone whom she knew as being warm, turned cold in an instant, with boardroom like efficiency.

“What did you see?”

“The consequences of my actions.” 

Korra’s palm graced her jaw and she turned.

“We may have done something bad, but we aren’t wrong,” she urged, “try to remember that.” 

Asami’s eyes dropped to Korra’s t-shirt, and traced her fingers over the plastic faded design. 

“Did Kya send you this?” her fingers stopped on the palm tree wearing sunglasses. 

_Ember Island is for Lovers!_

“I’m sorry I didn’t think,” Korra stood and made to take it off when Asami gripped it.

“Don’t,” her eyes were watery, loss of something quite intangible gripping her as she tugged at Korra. “It suits you,” 

“She gave it to me when I was fifteen…actually I think I stole it, I got caught in a storm and this was part of the clothes she gave to change into.”

Her arms came up around Asami’s shoulders, and she pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“We should go, when this is over,” Asami whispered, feeling weak. 

“I’d like that,” 

*****

Ryu was stiff, his long body aching from being curled up in this tree for so long. He was exhausted, but thankfully the sharp sticks in his thigh, back and ear kept him awake throughout the night. He’d captured the Sato heiress professing her love on the doorstep, and was mildly disappointed she didn’t bring a new Satomobile for him to gawp at as she kissed a woman. 

Because that was newsworthy apparently, but his cousin had been so excited. He’d taken his first roll of photos from him at midnight, and asked him to take follow ups, as proof of their affair. 

“It’s about the _story_ ,” Sueng had explained, “The more salacious the better, but the pictures with the story have to make sense.”

“So what am I waiting for?” Ryu huffed.

“Walk of shame,” Sueng slapped his arm happily.

It was around 9am when Asami Sato exited the premises. _Click!_ She was halfway down the steps when her lover took her hand and turned her back, cradling her cheek, kissing her softly, _Click!_

She wore the same long elegant red dress she had to the gala, sans golden bangles, instead a blue scarf that clashed.

She whispered something to her, holding her hand against her face, eyes even from a distance, wide and teary. Mrs Sato told her everything would be okay, at least that’s what it looked like her lips said through the telephoto lens. _Click!_

_I love you._

Ryu was sure she’d said it, and that her lover had said it back. No photo could capture the moment.

He watched her hail a cab, slip inside, and secret away. 

Ryu clambered down when the coast was clear.

****

Korra’s heart continued to pound even after Asami was out of her sight. 

She had no idea how long she’d be gone for, and the thought alone was killing her. She’d go to work, she’d arrange for time off, she’d go home and break the heart of a potential crazy man. 

It was too much to think about, she had to distract herself. Kai was gone, her studio empty, all that was left to do was clean. Anyone who knew Korra well enough would know that was a sure sign on distress. 

It was in the kitchen when she was blitzing away Asami’s hurricane cook did she find her notebook. A pancake recipe adjusted over the iterations, idle scribbles in the margin, a heart, with K and A at the centre. The letters she drew once, but the shape of it she’d traced. Innocuous, if not for her loaded past with that very act. Korra traced the indents weeping silently, Asami’s confessions forcing a rush of sadness through her being. 

She’d gotten in trouble for drawing these hearts before, but Asami, while brilliant, insisted on being devil may care with her emotions while she had them. The consequences of this, they had only now began to unravel. Sadness gave way to fury. _It shouldn’t have been like this. She should have been free to draw hearts like any other little girl._

She swiped at tears and scrubbed harder at the dried batter sprayed on the stucco. She wanted to laugh, but the other notions kept her insides swirling. 

The notebook fell when her sponge slipped. On the next page Asami had been formulating another recipe. 

_Korra’s favourite - Sea Prune Stew 2.0_

She knew the recipe of course, and Asami had memorised it from making it on those rare girls nights that Korra would allow. (She’d had to leave enough time between them to get her mind together.) Still she’d analysed the flavours she remembered in her head, _sour, salty, peppery, zingy, vinegary,_ in her loopy elegant lettering. At the bottom, with three underlines, _add sashimi._

A knock at the door startled her out of her reverie. She took a moment to wipe away her tears and rub her face as she prepared to face the outside. It was too soon for Asami to have returned, surely.

“Hey Korra,” Iroh grinned at her, dressed in civilian clothing, toting whiskey.

She froze, grip tight on the door, assessing, willing her brain to figure out what the _fuck_ was going on.

He isn’t strangling her - that’s a good sign.

“Iroh! What are you doing here?”

“Are you kidding? This is long overdue!” he stepped inside, and Korra scanned the room quickly for any evidence she’d been screwing his wife. He sat on the couch, quite at home, placing the bottle on the coffee table with a clang that was quiet that still had Korra flinching. Her sketchbook with her drawings of his nude wife sat at the end of that table. 

Korra was desperate to keep it from him, just the idea of him idly flipping through the pages felt as invasive as it was terrifying. Still in reclaiming it, she had to be discreet.

“I don’t understand,” Korra crossed her arms over her chest, digging her nails deep into her own arm.

“My house! Oh my god,” Iroh’s smile was wide, too wide, “Unpacking and taking care of Asami, and the mosaic, wow,”

“I only finished what Yasuko started.” Korra shrugged, “Are you…” she hesitated, “alright?”

Iroh pursed his lips, before answering.

“Why don’t we crack open this bad boy?” His eyes flicked to the kitchen, and Korra had an urgent need to keep him from the notebook full of Asami’s hearts. She pulled glasses from a cupboard and placed them on the coffee table. Sitting in the armchair opposite to pull his gaze away from the pair of plates, a couple of empty orange juice receptacles. 

Korra watched him pour at least three fingers in each glass. 

“Are you going somewhere?” 

Korra tried not to crack.

“The cases? Downstairs.”

“Hmm,” she nodded.

“With a special someone?” 

_Lie Korra, lie now and lie well!_

“She just left for work.” she took a swig of burning alcohol for which she was immediately grateful. “I have to clean up, pack, that sort of thing.”

She made a show of tidying, almost leaping at the chance to claim her sketchbook before he noticed it, and gathering other books from her reach to stack and file away on a bookshelf nearby.

“You look ragged,” he waggled his eyebrows and she wanted to deck him. “When do Asami and I get to meet her?”

“Depends on how this trip goes,” Korra croaked, throat tight, lips pursed.

“Oh,” he winked at her conspiratorially, “ _Mysterious,”_

“What did you need, Iroh?” Korra blurted.

“I know you and I haven’t been the best of friends, but, one thing I think we can agree on, is that Asami is important to us.”

Korra watched him pensively, again thinking, _if he knew he would have flipped by now._

“What’s wrong with her?” Korra asked, as nonchalant as she could manage. 

Iroh ran his hand over his perfect face, through his perfect hair. 

“You don’t think she’s been acting different?”

Korra wished her memories wouldn’t flood forward like they did, specifically Asami unbuttoning her jeans with fervent hands on her knees as rain beat the windows. 

“She’s had a lot going on, new house, new - you, _husband,”_ she corrected, “Her dad,” 

“Did she tell you? She didn’t tell me…I never quite understood, he’s in jail, how he could still affect her like this, how could he be this bad?”

“He was Iroh,” Korra told him firmly in a warning tone, “He really was.”

For a moment he looked like a robot, trying to process her words and coming up short. The moment stretched and he responded.

“Things have been tense, I was hoping you’d have some insight, you know her best,”

Korra frowned.

“I know her well enough to know,” she gestured between the two of them, “this isn’t my place,”

He looks as though he’s eaten something rancid. Nodding he picks himself up.

When he’s at the door he looks back, fiddling with the door jamb.

“I know she loves you more than me, I just always hoped, she’d learn to love me the same,” he smiled sadly before taking his leave. 

He was in his car when he unfurled his hand, and the unique, golden earring digging into his palm.

****

Asami found her mother’s jewellery in the dresser where she left it, a decade ago. 

She used to wear rings on every finger to camouflage the gaudy diamond Hiroshi had given her. Of course only after she had grown to hate it, but hadn’t time to do anything about leaving him. Her illness wasted her away until the rings no longer fit her bony fingers, and in this box they stayed. 

Asami took a couple of silver bands, for whatever reason they called to her, simple, wide. She slipped one on each index finger, for the moment imagining that should it come to it, they’d be effective knuckle dusters. 

Asami nestled the rest of them in her shirts, covering them with her gym clothes. She wrapped every fragile item in a garment, the photo at the Banyan Grove tree, the radio, even though she could scarcely imagine it breaking. Only one from her checklist remained. 

Shouldering the bag, she followed the path to the garage. Her mother’s diary was in the back seat, key still in the ignition. 

It was while sitting in the drivers seat she heard the screech of tyres. She tensed, waiting, glaring ahead at the garage top, where it would open up into a ramp into the driveway. The button was by the gate, but no one pushed it. Instead heavy footsteps followed, and Korra followed her the way she’d come in. 

“Korra what-”

“ _He knows,_ I mean he came to my house and he didn’t kill me but he was _so strange_ ,”

“Hey hey, it’s okay, he doesn’t, we haven’t talked and if he knew with you he would have said something - he’s impulsive.”

“ _That’s us_ ,” Korra urged. “You’re packed, we should go,”

“Korra,” Asami chided, carding her fingers through her hair, training her gaze.

“ _I’m scared_ okay? He scares me so much, and what if he hurts you- I can’t I love you - _I love you,_ ”

Asami cut her off with a kiss. 

It was then Iroh found the button in the driveway. Asami didn’t flinch away like she was supposed to, instead she let the compromised position speak for her, holding Korra close, chests heaving, hands held tight. 

She kissed the corner of her mouth, and opened the door. Korra was too stunned to move after her immediately, and when she did Asami had taken the key, and locked the doors behind her with the key fob. 

“ _Asami_ ,” Korra struggled with the door handle. 

“How could you do this to us?” was all his silhouette said, sun beaming behind him, he paced slowly down the ramp.

“I love her,” it was all she could think of to say.

“So you _fucked_ her?” he wielded her earring like a weapon, and in his other hand could only be the paper on which he had written his vows.

“I’m _in_ love with her,” he was in front of her now, looming, “but you don’t know what that feels like.” 

Her eyes dropped to the letter fisted in his fingers, but before she could look up he’d slapped her with a back hand. She stepped back, reeling, ears ringing. 

When her hearing returned she could only hear Korra screaming her name, punching the windows, unable to shatter them. 

When she opened her eyes, she could see Iroh’s twisted face, which for a partial second looked suspiciously Hiroshi-like. The transformation was behind the gun he was pointing at her.

“I want a divorce,” she sneered without blinking, hands steady. 

“You promised,” he uttered through gritted teeth, “have and hold, _honour and obey_ ,”

“I had that part written out if you care to remember,” Her heart was racing, but somewhere between the gun and the slap she’d reached the point of fuck it. 

“You fucked someone else,”

“ _It’s always been her,_ Iroh,” his eyes dashed to her, once again trapped, “I was numb for so long I couldn’t see it,” 

“How long? How many times?”

“Do you really want to know?” she pushed the pistol down, and to her relief he let her. “Look at yourself and tell me I should stay, look at what you wrote and tell me it’s not true,” 

He dropped his gaze, reeling, and when he raised it again he was looking at Korra, glaring back at him like a caged animal, desperate to attack.

When he raised his gun again Asami wasn’t strong enough to stop him, but redirect him a little. 

After the pap the shatter of glass made her feel punctured. 

“Korra!” when she turned she spied the hole at the epicentre of the shattered windshield. Her panicked blue eyes mets hers through it. Asami unlocked the car and ran to her, Iroh seemingly in a daze at what he’d done, watching her. He rounded to see her tug Korra, intact, cradling her shivering, the bullet hole fraying the headrest of Hiroshi’s supercar. 

“Look at me baby, are you hurt?” with trembling hands she cupped her cheeks. Iroh could only think how her hands had never trembled when they touched. 

“I’m _okay_ ,” Korra breathed. 

Korra’s eyes widened Asami’s instinct yanked her into place. Shielding her body with her own.

Another shot, and Asami slammed into her.

Korra didn’t speak, she turned her into her seat and used her momentum to launch her from the car, feet first into his chest. Gun sliding away, she couldn’t stop hitting him. Years of pent up fury guided her fists, colliding with his jaw over and over again. He managed to hit her in her nose first, but it didn’t affect her rhythm. 

“ _Kay_ ,” a whimper from behind her did. 

“ _Asami_ ,” knuckles bloodied she stumbled back. She writhed and bit back her screams beneath Korra’s hands. 

_“It hurts,”_ Asami’s hands were vices, fading, on Korra’s clothes. 

Korra pushed her back incrementally, tugging her scarf from Asami’s neck to wrap around the wound on her upper back, right shoulder. The bullet still inside. 

“Hold on,” 

_“There’s a phone, on the desk,_ ” Asami seethed through gritted teeth, “ _Wait_ ,” 

She snatched Korra’s left hand, forcing the silver band from her hand, jamming it over Korra’s bloody ring finger. Korra stood with a stumble, screaming mind watching her bloodied hands, Iroh’s blood, Asami’s too.

Her jumbled thoughts managed to call for an ambulance, and by the time she reached Asami she had slumped over, unconscious on the front seat of her father’s car. 

Blue scarf soaked through now, smearing the leather as Korra yanked her limp, carrying her up the ramp, kneeling to the gravel, holding her to her upright to keep the wound above her heart.

“Don’t do this,” she begged, her lips praying into her skin, left hand braced on her cheek to keep her head up “ _Please don’t do this,_ ” 

She could see their lives together rushing before her eyes, but it was wrong, she wasn’t dying. As she waited an eternity for help to arrive, she even saw beyond themselves, a million mornings waking up with Asami, Seaprune Stew 2.0, going back to the cabin with the family Asami had always wanted (that Korra had always wanted too but was too much of a coward to tell her, oh how she wished she’d told her), coming out to her parents.

“What a disaster that’ll be,”

Asami keened softly, as though to respond. If Korra didn’t know better she’d say it was out of concern for _her_ well being.

In the back of the ambulance she reluctantly let the paramedics take her, plug her in. She gripped her hand fiercely, as Asami slipped in and out of consciousness.

“Are you hurt?” she flinched when addressed, unwilling to take her eyes off of Asami’s chest for a second, rising and falling.

“I’m fine, this is-” she flexed her hands, blood now drying, silver ring starting to stain with it, “this is hers.” 

“What is your relationship?” 

Asami’s left hand surged to her then, gripping the print of her T-shirt. 

Korra hushed her, even though she made no sound under the respirator. Taking the hand and attempting to unfurl the vice like grip she kept, it was then it clicked for Korra, even before Asami’s index finger rose up to trace the scar that served as a reminder.

When Korra had her accident, even though she had recalled only Asami’s phone number, she wasn’t allowed near her until her parents arrived. Her best friend had agonised over her for almost an entire day waiting for them, not knowing if she was alive or dead and not able to hold her hand through the worst of it. 

Roles reversed, no such waiting could take place, Korra would simply be barred from the wards and information until Asami could consciously vouch, and that consciousness was slipping away fast. 

Asami’s only legal family just shot her, and even in pain Asami, the genius, had planned for this; to keep Korra with her, and it started with a simple silver band. 

“ _I’m her wife_.” Korra took her hand and interlocked their fingers, unfamiliar rings bumping in the tangle, “I’m all she has,”


	15. Oh You Are Not Well - Chloe Foy

“Stay with me I’m right here,” Korra begged quietly, a pocket of sound beneath the din of the sirens howling above. Asami’s eyes could only flutter, succumbing to the pain, grip weakening on Korra’s shirt _. “Stay awake,”_

She watched her eyes widen, trying her hardest to do as Korra asked. 

“That’s good,” Korra flinched at the voice of the paramedic working on her back didn’t look up from his task. “Keep talking to her,” he instructed.

Asami lay on her side, rocking with the turns of the ambulance, held steady by three sets of hands. Korra did her best to gingerly swipe away the strands escaped from her loose bun over her temple, _she’d looked so adorable this morning tying it up,_ but only succeeded in leaving a smear of blood.

Korra’s lower lip quivered even as she bit it. The surge of adrenaline had every inch of her body coiled and trembling, desperate to do _something_ to break them out of this nightmare. Her head dipped heavy, and spinning, reeling, until a delicate finger tapped her chin. Deft and weak, and she followed its influence to see Asami, watching her suffer.

_Speak,_ Korra read her lips misting clear plastic. Her mind was a tempest of self loathing, shame, and despair, but given the circumstances voicing this aloud seemed counter-intuitive.

“When I told you I loved you, I never told you what it means to me,” she gave a sour smile, “I never told you anything you wanted to know,” the fingers prone on her chin fell and Korra caught them. “You wanted the house, the home, the someone to come back to, I always wanted to say just _pick me_ ,” her voice gave under the weight of a watery laugh, and Asami’s grip on her shirt only twisted tighter. “ _I never believed you would!”_

Asami would’ve laughed if she could, as it was the darkness was seeping in and she had very few cards to play. Tugging she moved the hand Korra held to her cheek.

“I was such a coward.” Korra sniffled, “Now I only want more time,” 

Korra hadn’t realised they’d come to a halt until the doors were open and blinding. Asami’s hands slipped from her and followed as quickly as she could, but there came a palm firm over her chest to stop her.

“No I can go, we’re _married_ , please-”

“Even spouses can go no further,” a nurse assured, tone calm, eyes dropping to the bloody hand print on the novelty t-shirt, “She’s going straight into surgery, _she’s in good hands_.” 

There would be no medical explanation to the way Korra’s knees gave out as she listened to the gurney wheels squeak away beyond those doors. She nodded anxiously, struggling to balance gripping a counter before she noticed the mess she was making.

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” she cupped her hands over her chest, digging her thumb into her palm while her fingers pressed into stinging battered knuckles. 

“It’s okay, here,” she could barely count the people lifting her to her feet and guiding her to a seat. 

“Can you give me her name?” 

“Asami,” Korra responded, “Asami Sato,” she felt a dip in her stomach, trying to find the best lies to tell to keep herself in the loop. 

“Do you know her blood type?”

This one Korra knew, Asami had given blood in a last ditch effort to give Korra what she’d needed when she had almost died, and they weren’t a match. 

“A positive,” _you have the best grade in the class,_ Korra had teased, high on morphine and not particularly reading the room. 

Korra offered to take the form the nurse was filling out. Birthday, home address, allergies, she knew all of it, pen only wavering when the nature of the injury needed to be described.

_Bullet Wound._

_Next of Kin/ Spouse._

Korra hesitated, the lie, while important, had only been words thus far, but all she could think signing her name was simply _not like this._

Still, the situation called for it, and she scribbled a signature she usually redacted from her idle doodles over the years.

_Korra Sato._

She handed the forms back. Thumb printing red on the page. She wasn’t surprised by the odd looks she received, and even less so by the ill authoritarian presence that sat beside her.

“Mrs Sato,” Korra would never be able to get used to that, and when addressed as such it took a moment for her to respond. “Detective Lin Beifong,” she flashed a badge, and Korra was suddenly doused a cold sweat, “I’m here to take a statement from you,”

“ _Beifong_ ,” Korra murmured, “I think I met your mother,”

“I’m sorry to hear that, you wanna tell me what went on here?”

Korra nodded, looking down at her hands, before glancing at the nurses. Any who were idle were definitely listening. 

“Not here,” 

Lin nodded, standing and leading her to an empty waiting room. As the detective made a point of closing the door behind her, Korra’s eyes were drawn to the newspapers and magazines scattered on the communal table. 

She couldn’t pinpoint why at first, perhaps it was the familiar colours of today’s top story, the blue doors, the yellow lamppost she knew she’d walked past before, the red dress of a woman she’d been kissing mere hours prior. 

Silent and still she took in the front page from where she stood, Asami at a gala, neutral mask covering the sad aura that nobody but Korra could see as she posed on Iroh’s arm. Beside it, Asami on her door step, confessing to her in earnest, and the kiss that followed. 

_THE SATO AFFAIR_ emblazoned on the headline. From the photographers high vantage point he could even capture Korra lifting Asami from her lap, legs around her, attached at the mouth, thankfully silhouetted by the light inside through floor to ceiling windows. 

_WALK OF SHAME_ read the bi-line, as Asami left in the morning, telling Korra everything would be okay. Lying to her, before kissing her goodbye with an ill-fated sense of accomplishment.

_WATER TRIBE MAYORS DAUGHTER - WHAT WE KNOW_

The world caved in on Korra when she saw the brief snippets on her and her family, they’d even managed to procure a portrait of her parents and herself and a brief biography. Her heart was pounding, lips numb and head still caught in the maelstrom she’d been churning in since Iroh pulled the trigger. She was sure there wasn’t much more the universe could throw at her that could top that. Yet the knowledge that what happened in Republic City, no longer stayed there; blindsided her. She had been outed, if not now then soon. Her parents would learn how far she’d fallen from a third party, and it trapped her in entropy. She could barely hear the detective talking to her.

“Kid? Are you ready?”

“It was her husband, Iroh,” the truth tumbled from her lips, broken by those pages, she could only utter the truth, “he found out we were sleeping together and he was aiming for me…” Korra said.

“So you aren’t married?”

“ _I’m her wife_ ,” Korra levelled her stare, for the first time since entering the hospital reclaiming her strong, immovable stature, “I’m all the family she has.” turning her faux wedding ring on her hand.

“But her husband shot her?” Lin arched an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Iroh,” Korra conceded. “General of Arms in the United Forces,”

Lin was surprised by the gall is took to simultaneously lie and speak the truth to a detective. Particularly one doused in a victim’s blood. 

Korra was balanced on a fine tightrope, but she had done so for so many reasons over the years that she was as poised as an acrobat; miraculous and unyielding. When she met her eyes, Lin’s expression was stony, but a modicum of sympathy flashed there.

“Cooperate with me now, and you won’t be separated,” 

Korra had spent the moments before Lin uttered those words weighing the pros and cons of fighting a police officer in a hospital. _Pro - Medical treatment would be immediate. Con - As would arrest probably._ She sunk onto her heels, gut twisting, fingernails digging into her arms. 

Lin was quite unprepared for such an emotional response, but had the decorum to sit and wait until Korra could speak again.

“We were coming clean,” she wept, “We weren’t supposed to happen but we did and we tried to do the right thing so we could start our life together, and _he_ , I knew he’d- but not,” she threw her gaze to the papers once again, and saw the diner photos, zoomed in blurry, but Asami had been pressing loving kisses to her eyes and lips and cheeks in a precise sequence. “Is anyone-? I mean he could come here,”

“Officers are stationed at the house, a team arrived shortly after the ambulance, other than you no one was there.”

“He _escaped_?” He’d been so still on the linoleum after she’d decked him that he could immediately be forgotten when Asami had made a noise. Her best friend’s life had taken priority over beating her husband to death.

“We’re arranging protection-”

“He _is_ the protection,” Korra’s throat was tight, trying not to snap, voice shattering anyway.

“We are aware,” Lin assured as much as any gnarled, scarred seasoned cop could. “He won’t get near you,”

“ _I could give a shit about me_.” an inciting statement if she hadn’t sounded so weak. She wanted whatever squadron or stormtroopers Republic city had at their disposal surrounding Asami with a wall of muscle and guns and was about to lay it into Lin when a voice intruded upon her tirade. 

“ _Korra_ ,” 

Her head snapped to the now open door, Mako stood in his trench coat, black shirt, pleated pants and a badge glinting on his hip, eyes panicked and furious. Korra swore she’d never been happier to see him, yet equally certain he may finish the job that Iroh started. She stood bracing for the impact of everything she deserved. She was surprised to be buffeted bodily by his hug.

“Asami she-”

“I know,”

“We-” 

“I _know_. It’s okay,” he hushed, voice cracking, yanking her tighter.

“It’s not _okay_ \- he shot her, because of _me_ ,” 

“Don’t you dare,” Mako seethed clutching her at arms length, golden eyes blazing, “He knew what he was going to do, he came for me first,” 

“What?”

“I was in a bar at Kyoshi park and he followed me, started accusing me and almost-”

“The only bar at Kyoshi is a - Mako you’re…”

“This isn’t the way I wanted to tell you,” he gave her a wry smile, eyes dropping to the publications beside them, “I imagine this wasn’t how you two wanted to tell us,” 

“She was leaving him for me,” Korra murmured weakly, her forehead met the meat of his chest,

“Is,” Mako corrected, “She’ll be okay, she’s tough, old Salami Aato,”

Korra couldn’t help the mad goofy chuckle her friend teased out of her then, the world was spinning but some things remained just the same.

“There she is,” Mako muttered into her hair. 

“If you two are quite finished,” Lin cleared her throat.

They parted, taking seats on the benches, while Korra gave her account.

“Do you want the affair?” she dropped her gaze down at her flexing knuckles, starting to scab, “or the after?”

“Why don’t you start from this morning?” 

“Asami made me breakfast,” 

“Asami can’t cook,” Mako responded reflexively.

“She tried,” Korra gave a sad smirk, “she practiced while I was sleeping.”

Mako breathed a surprised curse, and Lin barely concealed her derisive stare. Korra tried to stay in that happy place as she spoke, though it wasn’t long until her voice wavered. 

“She left to tell him alone. She was worried what he’d do to me if I went with her. She kissed me goodbye and went to work, I think, and then home to pack.”

“How’d you end up at the house?” Lin asked.

“Iroh came to my apartment, to thank me for fixing up their house, and…I think that’s when he knew. I came straight over to the manor and I wanted her to run now, but she kissed me quiet and then… he caught us in the car, ” her jaw locked, working through the events in her mind, “Asami got out first and locked me in, the door jammed, I couldn’t follow, I couldn’t do _anything she-_ ”

“It’s okay Korra, take a breath,”

Mako tried his best to soothe her while remaining professional. Korra could only hear the pap of Iroh’s palm smacking his wife on repeat in her head. 

“He hit her across the face…” her throat closed, working through it, tears prickling in her eyes, “he pointed a gun at her, and then aimed at me,” her fingers made the shape of it, without particularly thinking, cradling it on her lap, “she pushed it aside just enough so when he fired it missed my head.”

“How did she-?”

_“I’m getting to it_ ,” Korra heaved a breath, “She ran to me in the car, but behind her I could see him levelling the gun at my head…from my face she must’ve known so she moved.” 

“How’d you get away?” Lin pressed.

“I hit him, I kept hitting him,” Korra responded through gritted teeth, “When I thought he was unconscious, I went back to her… Before I even called the ambulance she stuck this ring on my finger and I carried her outside,”

“She knew this was going to happen?” Mako breathed. 

“Yeah I think she did,” Her own face was sore when she made to sweep tears away. “Is that everything you need?” she choked out, still in the memory, vaguely aware that she had confessed to a crime herself.

Lin flipped her notebook without flourish and stood.

“We have enough to go on, if there’s anything further, I’m sure Mrs Sato can corroborate when she’s out of surgery.”

Korra appreciated the use of the word _when._

“Mako collect her clothes as evidence, take photos, the usual, it might be advisable to retrieve some for both, I’m sure my niece is more than capable,”

“Wait what?” Korra muttered under her breath, eyes wide connecting the dots. 

Lin left not long after, presumably on the hunt for Iroh. From the privacy of the waiting room, Korra did as she was asked, numb to anything but the requests of her old friend. Officers took pictures of her hands and face. She’d been so preoccupied, her panicking mind heightened to the peak by that adrenaline wave, that as she rode it back down, she could only now feel the beginnings of a black eye hours later; her lip split stinging and nose oozing with blood. It seemed despite her best efforts, Iroh had managed to get his licks in too. She hadn’t noticed, focused on that singular task of vehemently making him pay. 

Mako was his usual stoic self, nudging her into place, a calm exterior that she could mimic while her guts boiled with waiting. 

Given the chance Korra excused herself to the bathroom to wash the blood from her hands. It seemed endless, pockets of dried liquid melting with each lather until her palms were raw from it. 

When she finally stumbled back into the room she’d come to think of as purgatory, Opal was there, pausing mid sentence to barb her with wide pitying eyes. She launched herself at Korra the first chance, yanking her close. 

“I can’t believe this,” she whimpered, “I just can’t,” Korra gingerly raised her hands to her back, feeling the phantom ick of blood lace her palms. Opal was clearly reeling, voicing her spiralling thoughts aloud without filtering. “I mean when I found out about you two I was happy for _you_ but devastated for him and he- it makes no sense with the man I knew but he wouldn’t would he? No wonder she’d leave him for you if he’s _capable of that_ , but how did he know? I only knew because of what I saw in the gym-” she seemed to stay herself from revealing the particulars, but Korra could guess, sickening heat adding to the foray of twisting emotions. 

“It just happened,” Korra choked, hating how inadequate it sounded.

“She told me she loved you and she wanted to be with you after I… but I never- I never thought-” 

“He’d try to kill us?”

Opal hadn’t a response, but it seemed Bolin wasn’t far behind her, working his wide arms around them both. It didn’t have the desired effect, more and more every inch of love he squeezed into them made Korra’s darkening soul coil deeper and more viciously around itself.

When the big lug released, Opal toted the bag Asami had been packing.

“They let me take this from the car,” she sniffled as Korra took it, “maybe there’s something that can fit you?” 

“Thanks,” 

It was heavier than she expected, Korra opened it to find the photos nestled amongst her clothes. 

Korra shouldn’t have been surprised to see so many of herself amongst them, over the years, the memories had been precious to her despite all along thinking the sentiment was unrequited. Of course they weren’t, she knew that now.

She cleared her throat, covering them up, packing them neatly after pulling loose a looking shirt and sweatpants combo and taking the bag back to the bathroom to change. Upon returning she held her clothes out to Mako in a fist. His Adam’s apple dipped as he swallowed a reflux of deep dread that he tried not to let show. He scooped them into an evidence bag and handed them off. Korra desperately tried not to let it affect her. 

“Was there a book?” she asked Opal, eager to distract herself, as she idly fumbled along the spines of the many frames inside Asami’s bag, wrapped like packages. “It would be a handwritten diary. Probably on the front seat or glove compartment,”

“This was the only thing in the car they could find, but I can check again”

“Mrs Sato?” Nurse beckoned.

“That’s me,” her friends hit her with simultaneous aghast expressions, to which she could only purse her lips and mutter, “I’ll explain later,” 

She stepped forward, heart pounding, examining the face of the woman at the door for signs beyond the neutral. Alas all she could tell that the nurse was at the end of a very long shift, and the outcome that held Korra like a vice wouldn’t affect her day either way.

“Is she okay?” Korra had to refrain from begging, wringing her hands instead. “Is she _alive_?” her voice gave on the last word, and the bind on her chest had been exchanged to her shoulder as Bolin gripped it.

“She’s alive, the surgery was successful,” 

Relief was a choked sob, coupled with those infernal weak knees. This time Bolin caught her with an arm about her ribs before she came anywhere near the ground, Opal’s hand cupped the side of her face, Mako gripping her arm to keep her propped. 

“The bullet entered via the her right shoulder, and lodged into bone, We’ve managed to remove it and suture the wound. We’ve got her in an ICU ward where she’s resting comfortably.“

“Can we see her?”

“Visiting hours are over, I’m afraid only family is allowed at this point,” she looked pointedly at Korra.

“ _Go_ ,” Mako urged, “We’ll be here,”

Korra didn’t need to be told twice. She would have ran if the nurse allowed it, but as it was she set them at a bustling pace that Korra struggled not to surpass.

When they reached the door she stopped shy of opening it. The new memory burning in to her psyche with the fluorescence; Asami on her back, elevated arm in a sling, sheets taut over her hip, blue and pink dotted gown the only colour against her pale complexion. Korra watched her breathe from the distance, so soft it was almost imperceptible, long hair tucked beneath her in a dark inky sheet that she rest on.

“She’ll be coming round from the anaesthesia soon, she has a morphine drip for when the pain too much,” 

“I’m familiar,” Korra murmured without thinking, remembering her own time in a bed not dissimilar to this one, the deja vu alone making her skin crawl. “When can I take her home?” she asked. 

“It depends on how she does,” the nurse replied cooly. Korra’s prone fingers started pushing gently on the door. 

Asami didn’t stir as she approached. Korra had always seen her as strong, agile and formidable, but here she was a punctured paper doll, skin almost translucent and all Korra wanted to do was take her up in her arms and breathe colour back into her.

“There’s a button by the bed if you need anything, and water fountain down the hall,”

Korra nodded mutely, her ears were tuning in to those light huffs instead of what she was being told. 

When alone she sat on the single chair beside her bed and her vigil began. She slipped her fingers between Asami’s and gave a light squeeze. Her throat felt too tight to speak, but she hoped the message was received. _I’m here._ If it wasn’t she was at least warming her extremities.

Asami slept on, with Korra counting and measuring her breaths like sheep. Her head bowed forward and her own exhaustion took over. 

She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, only realising what she was doing until cool fingers combed through her hair at the back of her head. Stroking softly until she raised it.

“What are you doing all the way over there?” Asami asked huskily, quietly, throat sore. 

“ _Asami_ ,” Korra gasped, relief jarring as she stood, propelling the chair she had been on backwards. Bowing over her she swept a hand over her cheek, instantly giving in to the need to press her lips to her forehead, her temple, thanking her wordlessly for just being alive. 

“Come to bed, Kay,” Asami muttered, fingers tangling with Korra’s shirt.

“I don’t think I’m allowed…”

“ _Don’t argue_ ,” She yawned petulant, turning to her side and pressing her forehead to Korra’s throat, “I have work early tomorrow,” she went on, slurring a little, “and you have to pick up the kids ready for school,” the grip on her shirt insistent.

Korra’s heart hammered for her, less with panic and more in tune with a bittersweet symphony of joy. Asami had been dreaming of domesticity and routine, of a life with her, and in the light of everything they’d been through, that mundanity was too exquisite to bear. Asami had even conjured the scenario to such an extent that when waking it would only make sense to continue.

“Asami-”

“Look at you you’re exhausted…” she trailed off as she took in Korra’s face, specifically the bruises and cuts she inspected with heavy bleary eyes and a thumb and forefinger to her chin. “Who did this to you?”

Korra hadn’t the heart to explain it to her, particularly when she was clearly stoned.

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” she whispered, taking back her hand, “Go back to sleep,”

“Not without you,” Asami whined, it was the only thing her high mind could comprehend, a single task to focus on, she couldn’t fathom why Korra was being so difficult at this time. “ _Ow_ ,” in her yanking she’d pulled something she shouldn’t and flopped her head on the pillow. 

“ _Okay_ ,” Korra yielded, mostly for fear she might try and wrestle her into the bed if she waited any longer. She hadn’t expected blissed out Asami to be quite so grabby. 

A smaller space than they were used to, but with the way Asami turned and curled into her it didn’t seem to matter. Her ear against her shoulder, her leg slung instinctively over hers, Korra lay on her back while Asami sought that tight cocoon she’d come to love from Korra.

“ _Tighter_ ,” she mumbled into her t shirt, turning her lips into the cotton, seeking softness and warm and the scent of Korra like nothing else mattered.

“Not too tight,” Korra warned, extremely aware of the proximity of her hands to the gaping hole that had once been in Asami’s back. 

“You’re no fun,” Asami complained, becoming irritated when her sling prevented her from slotting perfectly against her. Soon their breaths fell into sync, slow and calm. Every minute of being under her, warming her and feeling her nuzzle and tug soothing her battered soul.

“Asami?” 

She hummed in response, on the cusp of sleep, but seemingly unbothered by it interruption.

“We don’t have kids,” 

She hummed again, eye brows drawing in as she willed her brain to work a little beyond the haze.

“Who am I thinking of?” she mumbled.

Korra let out a laugh, that gave way to a gentle sob, she couldn’t help the tears pouring down her temples as she clutched Asami to her chest. She didn’t seem to notice she was in distress, Korra couldn’t blame her, she was on the strong stuff. Once again unconscious, soothed and cradled in Korra’s arms as she wept as silently as she could.

****

When Asami woke, she took a long while to figure out exactly what she was looking at. A glittering dried up river on beautiful brown skin, marred only by purpling valleys. Her features were lax, Korra was sleeping, Asami could tell from the portion of her lips she could see, pleasant shape almost pouting. 

_She’s been crying. Why has she been crying?_

“Korra,” she tried to follow her instinct, to cup her face and rouse her gently, but her hand was bound by the sling. “ _Ah_ ,” her pained whine seemed just the ticket. Korra’s eyes snapped open. 

“ _Don’t move,_ ” her sleep heavy lips mumbled an order, and Asami could only smile, until that too made her wince. With the hand that wasn’t tied down, she could turn to touch her own cheek, swollen slightly. 

“My teeth hurt,” she whimpered, turning her face into the safety of Korra’s shoulder. Desperate to stretch and wake.

“There’s a clicker,” Korra mumbled, reaching over her, “for the pain,”

“This pillow talk is strange,” Asami would’ve laughed, if not for the solemn expression on Korra’s face.Her throat was raw, and now she that thought about it it felt like she’d swallowed glass. 

Korra had already lifted a beaker with a straw of water to her lips. 

She sipped gingerly, body sore, head pounding, piecing together the why with the here.

“Did something bite me?” Asami tried to reach back to the hot sting on her shoulder, but Korra stopped her, “Like a dog or a-”

“Bullet,” Korra whispered and it was all it took. In a flash, everything returned. The bullet. The slap. The car.

“ _The locks weren’t finished_ ,” Asami whimpered, covering her mouth. Korra was trapped like a rat, and rather than Iroh getting in, she’d prevented her from making her escape. 

“Now you tell me,” Korra’s lips were on her forehead soothing the guilt she knew was brewing there. She was already heaving sobs, making her pain that much more pronounced, physical and emotional. Korra hushed her, stroking where she could reach. 

“I’m sorry Korra, I’m so so sorry,” Korra’s hands were warm where she was ice cold, under her jaw and over her hip, grounding her holding her steady.

“Did you know?” Her green eyes flicked up to her, pleading, guilty, distraught

“I didn’t _want_ you to come,”

“He almost killed you,”

“And _you_ ,”

“If I wasn’t there _you_ would have been his only target,” 

Asami wanted to point out that he almost shot her twice between the eyes. She’d only just emerged from surgery this was not the conversation she wanted to have with her girlfriend. She was getting ahead of herself. _My list._

“Be my girlfriend,” her fingers curled into her shirt with the urgency of it. It seemed to stop Korra in her tirade. Blinking, confused, elated, perhaps a little annoyed. Her lips had dropped into that adorable surprised 'o' and her head cocked like a puppy while she gathered her thoughts.

“How can I…” Korra found her smirk, fingers tangling with Asami’s on her chest, “When I’m currently your wife?”

Asami spied her mothers ring on Korra’s wedding finger, a trinket really and in no way deserving of being the jewel that bonded them, simple and silver and tinged with the slightest red. Still her heart leapt to her throat at the sight of it, and she followed the instinctual pull of her mouth, and kept kissing firmly, despite a sore swollen lip.

“You had that plan ready to go,” Korra teased.

“You’re _clumsy_ ,” Asami chided, “and I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart when either of us woke,”

“Oh my God you’ve had this plan for years?”

“It takes your parents a minimum of twelve hours to get here,” Asami’s eyes were glassy, lost in the painful memory, “Waiting was hell and I…”

“I know,” Korra cupped her cheek to soothe her, thumb hovering over the marks Iroh’s meaty fists had left there, “It was a good plan,” 

“I’m sorry I know how much you hate lying,”

“It’s the last lie we tell,” Korra’s lips found that full smile as she made that promise, and Asami instantly felt reprieve to witness it.

“Is that a yes?” 

“So long as you asking isn’t another confabulation,”

“A what?”

“After surgery, the anaesthesia, or in my case it was a little bit of brain damage. Confabulation makes your memory fill in the gaps of things you can't quite understand with things that just aren’t true…like how in my first month out of the hospital, I thought everywhere I was, was San Francisco,” 

“You mean how you thought that nurse was your mom, even though she was a different race than you?”

“Yes that,”

“Your mom was right there too,” Asami laughed, the bittersweet of Korra’s charming silliness, post accident. Left unattended for but a few minutes she’d stolen flowers, and chocolates from other patients beds and laid them on the desk of a nurse she hadn’t met before that day. _Happy Mother’s Day!_

Luckily Korra’s actual mother, Senna, had found her in time to inform her the day was a while away.

“Wait, what did I say?” Asami muffled the words behind her hands at Korra’s smug grin. Preparing to be mortified at the earnest, yet probably embarrassing thoughts of her drug induced heart.

“You asked me to pick up the kids for school,” 

“Oh god,”

“I know, you have such a crush on me,” 

“Says you!”

“I know,” 

Victory was carding her fingers through her hair then, tucking Korra’s eyes into her neck and holding her there. _We did it. We get to have it all._

“Of course I will,” Korra murmured, quiet so the nurse nosing through clipboards at the end of the room wouldn’t hear, calm and joyous and so certain of her answer, “be your girlfriend, I mean,” 

“Ow,” Asami’s voice was as soft as it was heart breaking.

It was then Korra realised her left hand was clutching her shoulder. 

“ _Ow,”_ she repeated, eyes turning watery, hand gripping Korra’s bicep tight.

_“Wait shit, I’m sorry,”_ Korra untangled the morphine-clicker and held it up, Asami snatched it and clicked the button insistently as the scourge of red-hot agony spooled up from Korra’s grip. 

“You’ll stay with me right?” she whimpered, concentrating all her willpower in keeping her grasp on Korra. Almost as soon as it was administered, she felt like she was in the shower with Korra once again, _floating._

“They couldn’t tear me away,”

She could swear it was raining indoors, but Korra paid no mind to the water dousing them on the bed from the perfect blue sky. She gazed at her as lovingly as always. Every bead of aqua jeweling on her skin, iridescent, almost as mesmerising as her girlfriend's sweet _sweet_ smile. Asami kissed her neck with numbing lips.

“This is good stuff do you want some?” she lifted the clicker to share, only to drop it immediately with a fumble of numb fingers.

“I uh can’t, addicted last time remember?” 

“Oh gosh, I’m being so rude,” Asami balked, although her faux pas quickly illuded her thereafter. All the colours she could see were bright and saturated and it was _fascinating_.

“Hush up druggie, try to sleep.” Korra smiled and kissed her brow.

“Good night Korra, I love you,”

“I love you too,”

****

“Here, try this,” Korra balanced a slice of apple upon the blade of a pocket knife, holding up to Asami’s lips.

She was being discharged today from the hospital’s custody into the protection of RCPD. During their stay, Korra had succeeded in exactly three things, keeping her calm, helping her sleep, and keeping their very public scandal out of Asami’s field of view. She wanted her to be in a kinder place when she told her, swaddled in warmth and love when the rug is pulled out from under her. That she could prepare herself for the reality of what they'd done, with a little bit of the dream to keep her going.

Asami’s fingertips brushed the back of her hand, lingering over the soft tendons as she took the fruit between her lips.

“Oh my god, that’s _delicious_ ,” she spoke around crunches and munches, “where did you get that?”

“It’s just an ordinary nurses station granny smith,”

“That can’t be right,” Asami inspected the pieces left.

“Near death experience will do that for you,” Korra smirked at her, a certain type of sadness in her gaze. Asami cupped her cheek. “What do you think of those birds in the nest outside?”

“I thought I’d be annoyed but…their song… waking up to them has been just beautiful,” 

“Give it a week, you’ll go back to being a cynic,” 

“I don’t think so, if you’re with me,”

Korra pursed her lips at that, face flush and at a loss for words.

“Smooth,” she coughed, turning away to gather up her bag. 

It’d been three days, and Iroh hadn’t been seen nor heard from in that time. The army had disowned him, obviously, but Asami’s legal team had already heard they’d taken the stance he was under extreme mental duress at the time of the incident, and would likely be treated with leniency. 

The idea of it made Korra want to burn him all the more.

Korra thought Asami was being rather blasé about staying at a location he already knew about. Asami insisted they would be safe, purely because she felt nowhere was safer than Korra’s bed.

“Stay away from the windows,” Korra cautioned when entering her longtime abode. She scanned the walls and windows for weak points, catching the undercover cops staked out in cars idle on two curbs outside before snatching the curtains closed. 

Asami watched her pace, brows drawn, heart heavy, settling the weight of the blame squarely on her own shoulders. From her bag she pulled her pink radio, setting it on the open-kitchen counter, and admiring its new home however temporary, and how it seemed to suit the fantasies she might have been having under a plethora of painkillers. She placed her free hand gently between her shoulder blades so not to spook her. Knowing without even touching her, her back muscles were riled into tense unforgiving knots.

“Dance with me,” 

A song was already playing, a honeyed melancholic voice ringing out in the twilight of Korra’s living room. Singing about lovers meeting in shadows, in sin, fearing being found. It was an old song Asami recognised, and loved, but never paid much attention to the story or meaning behind it until tonight.

Asami’s lips traced the cord of muscle of Korra’s neck, calming her with tender kisses as her arm held her waist firm against her own across the small of her back. It was an easy sway, Korra’s hands braced either side of her hips. Her vigilance began to slip with such a soft ministration, and any other day she would have been embarrassed by the moan she gave at Asami's touch. The coils in her body unfurling, weak with struggle, embalmed with the reward of holding the woman she loved more than anything. 

She had a lot to tell her, that they’d been found, that the world knew, and that quite possibly, Korra’s worst nightmare; her parents. But in the darkness, and in her arms, she wanted her to feel loved, and safe, so when Asami reared back and saw the fall of tears on her cheek Korra kissed her, firm and distracting, not pushing for more. 

There was a moment after another song ended, though neither had had noticed, where their fingers entwine, and Asami looked down at the new ring on her wedding ring finger.

“I guess it’s safe to take these off now,” Korra whispered, gentle, her thumb stroking that hand. 

Asami’s heart had began to pound, at the idea of it, and in the next moment she was unable to stop it from leaping out her mouth. 

“Let me stay married to you,” Korra’s thumb stopped, “just for tonight,” she tacked on in self preservation.

“Alright,” Korra breathed, stunned by those words, but still very much a sucker for her best friend “But I expect a first date _very_ soon,” 

Asami laughed with her, leaning against her gratefully, weeping as the rush of all that had happened overwhelmed her. Korra held her through it, as she always had, swiping tears from her as fast as they came.

“I’m so sorry Korra,” she meant for everything, and Korra knew it from the cadence in her voice.

“No more of that,” she crooned, kissing her forehead.

The phone rang, shocking them out of their reverie as though they’d been stung by it.

“You go, get ready for bed, I’ll go… rip the phone out the wall,”

Korra watched her go, walking through her bedroom door with a fond smile, just for her, like she belonged there. 

When she lifted the phone to her ear she hadn’t expected the beauty of that moment to be shattered so soon. 

Her gut knew something was wrong before a word was spoken by either of them. The caller struggled, waiting for Korra to speak. 

“ _Tell me it’s not true_ ,”

“Mom,” the word fell out of her as though it had been punched out of her chest. 

“ _Tell me you’re not…”_

“What, Mom?” Korra worked her jaw as her own petulant response surprised her. 

_“Sleeping with Asami_ ,” There it was, the thing she’d never hoped to hear her mother say, and at the same moment of course her mother had hoped the same. Korra couldn’t lie anymore, but she hadn’t prepared a rebuttal. Her eventual response was achingly simple.

“I love her,” 

She listened intently, she couldn’t even tell that Senna was breathing, not until the line went dead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dark End of The Street - Percy Sledge


	16. No Light, No Light -  Florence and the Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No Light, No Light - Florence and the Machine  
> Oh You Are Not Well - Chloe Foy  
> The Reason - Hoobastank

In that moment, Korra felt the rush of a thousand heartbreaks. She’d imagined her coming out story going so many different ways. While true it was quite impossible to succinctly predict the set of circumstances that led to her being outed via newspaper, the aftermath was always something she had intended to prepare for. She imagined the arguments and the antiquated ideas her parents would pose to her, and for the most part she had counter-arguments for all of them. She knew they were kind and loving people, but they were also the result of a proud culture that was reticent to change.

In the face of it, there was only one rebuttal that mattered, and to Korra, it made the most sense.

“ _I love her_ ,” 

It had been the first time she’d ever admitted it aloud to another person. Much had changed since she last lay awake at night, muttering it in secret in the dark. 

Asami loved her back, Asami left her husband for her, Asami had taken a bullet for her. The lonely person she’d been before could never fathom such things ever becoming true. 

In all her anxious preparation, she had never expected such a non-answer. As infuriating as it was devastating. When her mother hung up, Korra’s world fell silent. 

She’d harboured hope that in their butting of ideas she could make them come around, she’s imagined the conversation a thousand times in her head, loud and long and ardent because they cared so much. They might even be happy for her if she could just find the combination of words. 

Perhaps they’d see the way she loved Asami and it would all make sense. 

When the line was cut, that dream was now untethered and adrift in pieces around her. 

It was a full five minutes of staring without seeing, until she realised what her eyes were honing in on; Asami behind the door ajar, fumbling with her shirt buttons, huffing her hair out of her eyes so she could concentrate on the numb extremities _failing_ on completing a simple twisting motion. 

Korra jumped to help her without much thought on how she looked. Wordlessly she steadied Asami’s hands, parting her shirt one clasp at a time without looking up from her gentle ministrations. Even though Asami had been braless to avoid aggravating her bullet wound, in her languor and pain Korra hardly noticed the expanse of beautiful bare skin even as she undressed her. She had just reached her navel when Asami’s hands cupped her cheeks, stirring her from her stupor, tenderly kissing the tears that had escaped her, thumb grazing the stream. 

She’d spied the _sorry_ forming on Asami’s lips and instinctively Korra turned her head to catch them, selfishly taking comfort, while giving a little herself. Kissing her soft and sweet, like nothing is wrong, despite the tears printing over to her cheeks.

It all felt so strange, but this was the new normal; salacious chaos, mixed with heart wrenching intimacy. She felt the latter as Asami pulled away, forehead pressed against her own, jade eyes inspecting her face.

“Who was that?” Asami asked in a tone so soft, Korra’s body had no reason to react the way it did. 

Heart pounding from zero to sixty, the truth tangled on her tongue, breaths shaking in an echo chamber of her own emotion. She could see the squirm of uncertainty in Asami’s gaze, and tugged her into her arms, a tight cocoon in which she could fight her panic. Asami’s fingers combed through her hair and she could hear her cooing and hushing, unaware that every kindness seemed to incapacitate Korra further.

“Sit down,” Asami crooned, already guiding her to perch on the bed, finding Korra ever pliant beneath her hands. She wanted to ask what was going on, but she already knew the answer was _a lot._ Her best friend had always been stoic, strong, and capable of incredible things, but she also knew that after everything, every once in a while; there came a breaking point. 

“I’ve got you,” Asami told her, “right here we’re okay,”

Korra let out a despairing laugh, and finally caught her voice.

“I’m sorry, I’m just…”

“Overwhelmed?” Asami found the word she was looking for, and Korra nodded, her ears cupped by palms, grounding and soothing. “If you weren’t I’d be worried,” 

Korra’s sobs devolved into laughter, as she sat off kilter, hands clutching Asami’s elbows.

“It was my mom,” Korra found her voice, small and hoarse.

“Is she okay?”

Korra had half an idea in her head, and as she was putting it together. Knowing for certain that she couldn’t tell Asami the truth, partially because she could scarcely believe it herself, mostly she wanted a chance to make it better before she unleashed the torrent of pain she kept at bay. The papers and her outing came hand in hand now, and if Korra’s parents disowned her because of the scandal, Asami would surely blame herself. She’d slipped into the third stage of grief; anger and it spurred what happened next.

“ _She’s sick,”_ the lie tasted bitter in her mouth, “she’s okay, but she-,”

“We’ll go, I’ll come with you,”

“You _can’t,_ ” Korra balked, tightening her grip on Asami’s arms. Of course this was the reaction Asami would have. Already she hated herself. “I can’t hide the way I am if I’m with you,”

“You haven’t come out to them yet, have you?”

“I’ve never felt ready,”

“One thing at a time,” Korra knew she was perfect the moment she said it, yet it twisted the knife in her gut knowing she wasn’t deserving.

“I can stay, you need me here,” Korra backtracked for but a moment, lost in the idea she could hide from the world with Asami in the life and home she’d built. That they could be quarantined from the nonsense of the press and the pain of her parents and never get bored with it. 

“Don’t, I’ll be fine,” Asami cradled her neck. “I have Opal and Mako and Bolin, you should go,”

“It takes 12 hours on the ferry, stay a day, return at night, I can be back in less than 48 hours,” What she had to say wouldn’t take long, but her very being was desperate to say it.

“ _Korra_ , your family is important,”

“Exactly you are important,” Korra informed her without missing a beat, gaze earnest and steady. Asami was moved to her core by it, the notion that all she’d lost had returned in the form of the single beautiful person before her. She bit her lip as it shook, her own eyes shining with unshed tears as she gratefully cradled her cheek.

“What do you think they’ll say? When they know?” she hesitated to ask, knowing the answer from Korra’s expression alone. The solemn, bitter, twist of her lips and those expressive dark brows drawn together. 

“I don’t think they’ll like it,” she choked through her closing throat.

Asami’s heart wrenched for her, deep memories of disapproving parents came to the fore. Punishing and vile, she’d never wish such pain on her worst enemy, and yet the person she loved most might go through it all the same. She wanted to be there for her, holding her hand, there to protect her at a moments notice, but she could tell from the resolve in Korra’s eyes now was not the time; she intended to go solo whether she was telling them or not. 

Her brave and stubborn Korra, her girlfriend, her one. She would go home, care for her mother, all the while carrying the weight of the secret after all these years, never daring to put it on anyone else.

“You’re better than all of us,” she told her, and based on the way Korra’s expression dropped it was the absolute last thing she expected to hear. 

“You just saved my life!” 

“No Korra, that was you,” she felt a wave of pride bubble in her chest, watching her full and even smile return before she tacked on, “it was always you,”

****

The last time Korra had slept, swaddled beneath Asami in the hospital, she had been so emotionally, physically and spiritually exhausted that it had been like switching off a light. Her body and mind shutting off only to be roused by Asami hours later, though to Korra the time had passed in an instant. 

Tonight her brain had the energy to rile, and warp. It seemed to play her stream of consciousness backwards, in such a way that could only make sense in the vestiges of a nightmare. 

Her life and future passed before her eyes in an instant, only Asami was missing and no-one would tell her where she’d gone. 

The faces of her friends, Opal, Mako, Bolin, morose, twisted and dark, silent sentinels watching her panic as she begged and searched her memories. Asami’s wedding morphed and twisted into her funeral, an open casket at the altar she couldn’t even get close to. Iroh’s wall of muscle was barring Korra from seeing her. _It can’t be true. It can’t, she lived!_

It allowed her to witness Asami’s shooting, as visceral and terrifying as it had been in real life. The thud of her body colliding with her chest, firm and alive, until she wasn’t. 

Reality gave way to hopelessness, Asami wouldn’t wake. Cold in her arms, her blood pooling wide and flooding the gravel where Korra knelt cradling her limp and lifeless. The ambulance wouldn’t take her; she was gone, there was no point in trying. Korra tried to scream; _Her eyes are moving why won’t you help?_ Iroh stalked his way out of the the garage, toting the gun once again, aiming at Asami’s head to finish an already finished job. 

_No no please. Please don’t. Not again._

Korra couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, as once again the General blew them away.

The cry she’d given ripped through her as she woke, already Asami’s hands cupping her jaw. Her cool hands were a welcome reprieve on her searing, feverish skin. Korra couldn't trust what she was seeing, trembling vigorously, and heaving her breaths she braced herself for the next awful thing. Asami was speaking, how could she miss that?

“-Korra _look at me, I’m right here,_ ” 

“Is this real?” Korra gasped, throwing her gaze around. This was her room, had it always looked like this? The only difference was the woman in her bed, shaking her gently.

“Look into my eyes,” Asami croaked, weak and weeping. “ _Please_ ,”

Korra did as she was told, lost in the green, feeling her gaze reach into her and calm her from the inside out.

Asami knew without asking what she had seen. She lay awake that night knowing that she would see the same, roles reversed. 

She could spend hours watching Korra sleep, and rather than witness the worst in her own dreams, she was content to watch her lips pouting, her brows shift through her expressions and the moonlight singing on her skin. At least until ASMR of her breathing and shuffling in the sheets escalated into short huffs and piercing cries. Squirming, slake with sweat, face contorting as she lowered her chin lowered into her chest, retreating in on herself.

“You’re okay, _you’re here now,_ ” Asami hushed, just as affected by Korra’s pain. 

Korra had never shrieked the way she had then, never writhed with the fear of it, never been so utterly trapped by it that waking was impossible. Watching Korra suffer like this was Asami’s nightmare. She stroked her shoulders and neck, smoothing the coiled muscles until they eased. 

“Can I?” Korra wrestled with her throat, hovering her hand over an arm, aware that if she touched her blind, she could hurt her. In response Asami snatched her hands and positioned her limbs around her, one braced on the dip of her spine, the other wedged beneath her ribs. If the movement hurt her she didn’t make a sound. Korra curled around her, burying her face into her neck. Asami held onto her with all her strength, one side significantly weaker than the other. 

Asami absorbed her shuddering form against the sobs, Korra couldn’t help it, she was reduced by what her brain had conjured. 

_“I can’t go,_ I can’t leave,” 

“Shh,” Asami hushed her, palm rubbing hard warm circles over her pounding heart, comforting and grounding. “Not tonight,”she kissed her forehead, her temple, cradling her face. 

“I’m sorry, I woke you up,”

“I wasn’t sleeping.” 

“Why not?”

“ _I didn’t want to dream about you getting shot_ ,” Asami laughed breathlessly, combing her fingers through her hair. Every touch now met against Korra's sweat, slick on her skin, drenched through her clothes. “You’re soaked.” 

Asami didn’t pull away at the revelation, but Korra did. 

“Sorry,”

“You must feel awful,” 

Korra couldn’t summon a meaningful retort, her eyes only dropped to where she knew Asami’s wound was.

“We’re not doing this,” Asami whispered, “being _frightened,”_

Korra felt her tugging, and dutifully she followed. Curious, but ultimately calm. Whatever Asami had planned would be just the thing they needed, she was sure of it. Their love had changed some over the last few weeks, but the trust was just the same. 

She walked her into the bathroom, plugging the tub, and turning on the water. From her perch on the rim she looked up at Korra, watching her in return. Confidence waning she scooped her hair behind both ears, Korra reacted without thinking, tracing the side of her face with the backs of her fingers. Asami hooked her own on the hem of Korra’s pyjama pants, tugging down. 

Korra obeyed her intention, pulling her shirt over her head. Before she’d even lowered her arms, Asami’s hands were braced on her hips, pressing a playful kiss to her stomach, but getting carried away, mouthing tender kisses on the expanse and the litany of scars there. She was too distracted praying at the altar of Korra’s abs, tasting and tracing the sweat and shape with her tongue, to notice her own shirt being pulled up. 

She found her feet, swept up in the intimacy of being undressed by her, and the kisses that came with it. Korra’s sweat slicked skin had a flavour to it that she couldn’t deny herself, but when their mouths meet softly, slow in the tilt of their heads knowing they can take their time. She can study every scar with her fingertips and tug at the short hair and wispy tendrils at the nape of Korra’s neck.

“ _Korra_ ,” she sighs into Korra’s mouth, for love of saying her name in that breathy cadence, and the way Korra’s knees buckle in response. Her tongue flutters between her lips, dancing over the roof of her mouth and Asami’s breath hitches. 

It feels special, like they’ve been waiting for this, like it’s been earned, and they can take long a glorious moment to enjoy bliss.

Korra’s hand frames the jut of her jaw, as her lips sweep the crux of the other side, adoring her with the gentle swipe of her tongue, eyes closed, lost in the scent and sensations of pressing hot open-mouthed kisses unblemished skin.

Asami’s head fell back with a sweet gentle moan, and Korra palmed her shorts past her hips from her ass, squeezing slightly, still suckling. 

“ _The_ _water-”_ Korra noticed after opening her eyes a sliver. Asami dove back, nearly tripping with her shorts binding her knees. Korra caught her waist and from there, Asami could turn the taps off in a fumble before the pool filled above the brim. 

“Wow,” Korra smiled down at her, smug. Helping her to her feet. 

“What?”

“You really just blush everywhere, huh?” that only seemed to make the rouge tint on her shoulders chest and cheeks shine brighter as Asami bit her lip. 

“Shut up and get in,” she admonished taking her shoulders and waltzing her to step in. She watched as Korra reclined comfortably in the tub, steam rising from the surface of her naked body, her blue eyes piercing through the light fog. Asami couldn’t help but admire the jut of her collar bones glinting in the lamplight, or the beautiful ‘V’ that ended in a patch of inviting dark hair, framed by those particularly biteable hip bones. 

“What are you waiting for?” 

Asami blinked, caught outright ogling her. 

“I’ve never done this before,” she felt so juvenile saying it, this was her idea, but she hadn’t thought beyond washing the harrowing terror off of their bodies. The logistics were lost on her, the tub seemed small and frankly she was reluctant to tear herself away from the angle she was now seeing her from.

Korra’s lips tugged into that full smile, with those dimples that Asami wanted to kiss and cradle and frame _._ She turned her palm up for Asami to take.

“Here,” Korra offered, knowing better than to voice her own petty thought, _Iroh never got this_

Gingerly Asami stepped in between her legs, feeling at once too tall and infinitesimal. Korra’s steady hands guided her down, until she could snuggle into her chest and feel the weight of her exhaustion swathe over her. 

She took but a moment to feel the impeccable way their bodies aligned almost immediately, and in the next stole another to feigned discomfort to twist and nuzzle beneath her chin, lips just happening to brush her throat, to brace her hands on her perfect shoulders, to let their legs tangle and bend with each other in the meniscus. She settled on her side; hip cradled between Korra’s thighs, letting her fingers wander over the curve of her clavicle, so close and utterly mesmerising. Korra smirked through it all, marvelling at the beauty of her girlfriend’s newfound physicality. 

Tepid water lapped at their skin, soothing and gentle. Korra’s hands smoothed trickles along Asami’s arm and chest and she keened as she sank into the embrace. Ear pressed against her beating heart. She swore she could detect a skip. Her own chest was filled by it. 

The act was so simple, passive, naked and vulnerable, and in the wake of all that had happened it was illogical to let their guard down at such a time. Yet in the moment Asami was nestled in the safety they’d built together, and in the quiet and in the calm; it had her honesty pouring out of her. 

“After your accident, I had a lot of those dreams,” She spoke softly, still tracing her collar bone with a feather of her fingertip, “In theory you were safe, but at night I saw the worst, you didn’t…I _couldn’t…_ and I would wake up alone not knowing if you were okay,” 

“Is that why you stayed over? To know?”

“And to take care of you. On a regular day you bump into five things, you were on crutches and sedatives, there’s no way I was leaving you to your own devices,”

Korra chuckled. 

“I’m glad you were there for me,”

“Still am,” Asami insisted squeezing her ribs pointedly. 

Korra kissed her forehead gratefully, pushing tomorrow as far as she could from her mind. She was in a happy place, she was desperate to lose herself to it, to memorise the way Asami’s fingers drew patterns over her feverish skin, the smell of her head before its lost to soaking and soap, and the weight of her in her grasp, telling her that this was all real.

“Hey,” 

Korra doesn’t say anything, only closing her eyes to let the sensations build around her.

“You okay up there?” Asami asked, her voice soft and quiet, her own movements pausing. 

It’s no good, Korra doesn’t know how to hide her feelings anymore, Asami had completed the puzzle and now she could read her perfectly. 

“I’m-“

Despite knowing this she doesn’t know what to say. There’s something about her code that makes it physically impossible to upset her. 

“Korra,” Asami tips her head up to look at her. 

“Yeah,” not the right word, and certainly not enough to describe what she’s feeling. Asami was always kind of devastating to her, in one way or another, now she had her, she was desperate to keep her. Watching her now her brain short circuits, she’s in the bath with Asami, her eyes darkening as they drop to that perfect pink nipple pressed against her skin as she turns her body into her. She struggles with the fact that she’d sucked and bitten and stroked them more than once, and that they were plaint against her now. 

Asami’s brow furrows, her eyes troubled and concerned. Before she can press the issue, Korra slides her hand to her jaw, thumb stroking the soft pad beneath her ear, dragging Asami gently into a slow languishing kiss, that has Asami staring hungrily at her lips when they part a minute later.

“This is nice,” Korra answers simply.

“Yeah it is,” Asami agrees in a breath, pupils wide, breath coming out in shudders as she leans up and fuses their mouths once again. Kissing her senseless as she shifts above her, sure to never let a breath come between their parted lips. Hands cradling Korra’s jaw now as she finds her balance straddling her lap with their thighs interlocking. Where she’s emerged from the water her skin glistens, as does her neck with sweat, her fingers are in Korra’s hair and as she rises higher Korra thinks it might be a mistake, until her teeth tug gently on her earlobe, and her lips drag over the crest of her cheek. 

Hovering her mouth above hers, breaths mingling. Every caress of Korra’s hands had her twitching, down her arms, over her belly, softly, slowly, teasing with gentle scrapes of her fingernails against her flesh. Asami is dying to have her mark her, to be hers in such a primal possessed way, but her lips dance lightly along the column of her throat, as if Korra’s afraid she might break.

“ _Please_ , Kay,” she murmurs. 

It’s daunting to have her pet name used in such a setting, and even more so as Asami takes her wrist and guides it between her legs, prone above the water, slick with juices of Asami’s own making. It makes Korra’s already pounding heart race into a higher gear so that she can feel the echo of it in her shoulder blades and ribs. It speaks to all they’ve been through just to get here, and despite the pain, she’d never trade it for anything. Not when she can be her best friend, and her lover all at once.

“Go easy,” Korra admonishes, her lips dancing over nipple as she speaks, other hand cupping and squeezing it into place in her mouth. The suckle of her tongue and skilled mouth has Asami’s eyes rolling back, the hands that was skating underneath Korra’s slippery tit now braced on her shoulder to keep from falling. Korra's fingertips tease the edge of her folds, already pulsing, hot, silken slick aching to take her in. 

For one reckless second Asami loses herself to it, rutting her hips once to slide those fingers into place only Korra stops her. 

“I need you to be careful,” her voice is a husk of vulnerability and worry, but her eyes dark and commanding when Asami looks into them. It’s then she notices the pang of her shoulder, visible in the way her hand tremors its grip on the join of Korra’s neck and shoulder muscle. Asami nods, using the other hand to counter the balance, knees set, forehead prone over Korra’s, as her fingers finally part her and rub circles on the nub of her clit.

“ _Oh_ ,” she gasps and squeezes her hands, eyes closed, missing the way Korra smiles at her as she watches pleasure replace pain. Her talented digits increase pressure and Asami bears down on the need to buck with them, remaining as still as she can, only increasing the intense coiling heat in her abdomen. Korra braces her other hand over her chest, stopping at a spot most unexpected; her heart, absorbing the thumps beneath her palm. 

_“I love you,_ ” it’s feels an age since she’s said it, bowing forward and guiding Korra’s mouth beneath hers in hungry, hot and desperate kisses before she can even respond. She can’t bring herself to break the kiss, but as pleasure zips through her from between the apex of her legs, she knows she’s desperate for more, for fullness. With her weaker hand she covers Korra’s still working, and gently nudges her down, playing at her entrance, a suggestion, while her own curious fingertips map the way Korra’s tendons and knuckles work as they fuck her.

In the same moment, Asami rocks a little as Korra sinks two fingers inside her, honing in on that front wall as she fed her her tongue. Asami’s moan into her mouth was guttural, and her nails score deep on Korra’s back as she grips it, but Korra’s hand on her hip keeps her from cantering. 

Pulling away, Asami sees her best friends eyes filled with playful lust, it steals her breath all over again.

“Stay still,” her voice was low, and hushed, but in the same moment, Asami was submissive to her every whim and will. “Here,” Korra draws her into place; so her lips could touch the soft expanse of skin beneath her jaw, “ _bite_ ,” 

She did as she was told, gentle at first, as those fingers work, and she was lost to the sensation pulsing through her, biting down harder and harder. It’s not enough to muffle her whines, but they’re alone, given the circumstance the least she can do is be _loud._

“More?” Korra offered and Asami keened in assent, tightening her grip.

Korra added a third finger, stretching her, causing her to whimper into Korra’s throat. Her shoulder sears, but she doesn’t dare say anything, lips pressing and pointed tongue seeking Korra’s noises. Victory is in Korra’s moan as Asami slips her knee into place beneath the water, ignoring the slight slosh and splashes over the edge as she encouraged her to grind against her.

“ _Another_ ,” Korra almost stops at the request, a high pitched moan against her throat before Asami balanced her forehead into her clavicle to keep herself still and _breathe_. 

Asami can’t help but lurch a little, her mouth drops open silent at the four fingers burrowed into her, the filthy sounds they make as they fill her, in and out, hard, rhythmic, controlled and juxtaposed with Korra’s thumb swiping, almost fluttering side to side over her clit until she’s trembling and aching in the most perfect way. 

She succumbs, and her back seizes, her body stiffens, pressing her thigh into Korra’s centre as she arches back, breath shattering, fist tangled in chestnut hair as she writhes with the wave of her orgasm. When she falls against her, the sensuous position of her nipples pressed against her own with her heaving breaths, coupled with those fingers, still gently fucking her sending her over an edge she wasn’t even aware she was near. She’s putty, and trembling, and melded to her front like she’ll never stand again and Korra’s fingers are lazy and deep and it’s all it takes to shake a third orgasm out of her best friend. 

“Let me fuck you,” Asami utters, delirious with pleasure, sucking in a sharp, hot breath and releasing a drawn out moan before Korra can even process.

When she opens her eyes, Korra’s are half lidded, staring at her with that gaze she knows is only for her Asami. 

“Your turn,” she urges again, taking Korra’s wrist and pulling her out of her, marvelling at the sensation of those fingers slipping from inside, and the way she pulses, already missing them.

“Maybe when your arm is stronger,” 

“What about my mouth?”

“Can you breathe underwater? Because you couldn’t before your surgery,” 

Asami scoffs, petulant, reaching between them bold and brash before wincing.

“Ow,” she freezes, it’s the wrong thing to say. Korra’s expression shifts, but allows Asami to lay on her chest, cheeks howling red for a different reason. She feigns catching her breath, tucking her nose into her collar and letting her lips pressing lingering kisses, languishing in the body beneath her, trying to hold on to the sensations and exquisite breathless encounter they were having seconds ago.

“You’re bleeding,” beneath the bandage where it oozed through and had begun to dribble with the moisture, Korra swiped cautiously at it and urged her to sit with a guiding hand. 

Asami turned her face from her, hiding her mortified expression.

“I’m sorry-”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Asami seethed, “Don’t you dare,” she added, softer now, turning her shy gaze up at Korra’s face to assure her, “I loved that,”

Luckily the first aid kit was within Korra’s reach, and she copied the method the nurses had showed her before they’d left the hospital that day. Asami turned her back fully, hugging her knees as Korra worked the old bandage away, salving, cleaning, re-covering with precision and care. Running her finger over the perimeter of the mesh white square with something of a proud flourish.

They’d had this conversation, albeit under the influence of painkillers and intense emotional duress. Korra would do this for her, Korra was happy to do this for her, in a way it was a form of cosmic payback for all the care Asami had given her the last time one of them had almost died. 

Asami knew that on the surface it made sense, still, she couldn’t help shrinking at the idea of Korra cleaning up the culmination of her greatest mistakes; the ugly little wound on her otherwise perfect shoulder. Every pang of searing pain it gave her was a reminder that she got what she deserved, and every soft caring ministration Korra gave it was a reminder of what she didn’t. 

She’d cheated, she’d been caught. Korra had loved her for all these years, and she had missed it. She supposed in some way that had been punishment enough, but it was nothing compared to the way Korra had suffered, alone and unrequited. 

She pressed her cheek onto the curve of her knee until she could feel the bones smushed together as her thoughts riled. A thumb sweeping the curve her spine, precise, tender, and all the tension and all the vehemence of her thoughts just melted away. 

Korra knew exactly what she was doing, stroking soft patterns over the expanse of her skin, kissing intermittently watching her shoulder blades part and ease beneath her touch. Asami’s whole body followed the sway of it.

Korra’s lips pressed on the nape of her neck when she was finished, her left hand came around to soothe her wrist. 

“You’re still wearing the ring,” Asami noted, her voice neutral as she thumbed the band. 

“So are you,” Korra whispered, watching her profile as she eyed her over her shoulder, biting her lip, smirking. “Pass the soap,"

****

“So, before she was shot - you knew, and _you knew,_ and neither of you thought to tell _me_?” for a six foot two body builder, Bolin had a mean set of puppy dog eyes, feeling affronted and excluded he, Opal and Mako were parked outside of Korra’s fire house. He’d insisted on confronting them before going up.

“Look coming out is complicated,” Mako reasoned from the back seat.

“As was the situation with Iroh clearly, Korra and Asami, well they didn’t mean for this to happen,”

“But you both _knew_?”

“I figured it out after he accused me of having sex with Asami,”

“And I figured it out when I walked in on Korra…having sex with Asami,”

“ _When_?!” Bolin shrieked, and though Mako was in the know he was still surprised by it. 

For a moment Opal considered the negatives of telling her side, still she’d been dying to tell Bo, and everything was in the open more or less. If she knew her boyfriend, he wouldn’t stop making that ridiculous twitching face until she told him the rest.

“You remember how they were fighting, and they were still fighting when they went to spread Hiroshi’s ashes out of town? And when they returned and had the gym fight - and I went back they were still quote ‘ _really laying into each other?’”_

“Oh my God,” Bolin balked.

“Now replace the word ‘fighting’ with ‘fucking’ and this is my understanding of what was actually happening,”

“ _Wait,”_ Bolin smacked his own cheeks, and his head on the steering wheel, shaking his head as the veil of those events lifted in his mind. When he found it to still be incomprehensible, he got out of the car briefly, took a deep breath, and sat back down half in half out.

_“What did they say?”_ Mako pressed, going over the events in his head and trying to establish a timeline.

“I didn’t stop them _I just left,_ and honestly I’d forgotten the image of Asami getting railed into the gym mats until now so Bo, thank you for making us do this.”

“You doing okay buddy?”

“How do we feel about this? As friends,” he looked small twisting his fingers, “They lied to us, and Iroh, I mean he’s a bad guy but cheating,”

“Clearly something was off in that marriage if he could shoot her,” Opal pointed out.

“Korra said they were trying to come clean. Love can be messy sometimes, and it can change things between people in ways we don’t expect.” Mako defended.

Bolin spared a glance to the fire house, and back down at the front pages of the tabloids and matching photos on the dash board. Specifically their faces, Asami alongside Iroh, she looked passive, and miserable, but on Korra’s doorstep he saw the joy in her eye, the small portion that could be seen from the vantage point of the photographer. Korra was in full view, in all the years he’d known her he knew without a shadow of a doubt that was the only time he’d seen her give that complete smile.

“Why don’t we ask them?”

“We’ll see Bo,” Opal rubbed his shoulder, “The important thing now is we look after Asami and keep her away from the news.”

The three of them exit the car in silence, Mako subtly nodding at his fellow officers stationed in their undercover-wagons on the curb side. 

By the time they’ve climbed the flight to Korra’s apartment, Bolin’s stomach is already responding to the delicious smells coming from inside. He doesn’t bother knocking which Opal admonishes him for, given her last experience walking in on the couple it wasn’t out of place. Still they were invited, and the scene they walked in on was a domestic one. One that Bolin had never expected from two of his angsty best friends (not including his angsty brooding brother of course).

They were just hugging, Asami propped against Korra leaning against the counter. From the look of it, it looked like it had been going on for a while. Asami’s fingers mussing with the back of Korra’s hair softly, her eyes closed and her ear pressed against the cable knitted material of Korra’s sweater; just the right amount of rough and soft to merit the need to rub her cheek against it intermittently. Who was taking comfort, and who was giving it was unclear, but it looked as though it didn’t matter as they held on, both selfish and selfless, gentle as Bolin had ever seen them, at least not out in the open like this. 

A rock formed in his stomach when he spied the bruises, fading, but present, on Asami’s wrist and cheek, under Korra’s eyes, a dark mark beneath her jaw. The reality of what had happened to them written on their skin.

At the sound of the door, Asami’s eyes cracked open hazily, and when they made to part it wasn’t the spring apart _we’ve been caught_ their friends had been expecting. They were utterly comfortable being themselves finally, and as a result, they could never go back to being skittish and hiding it.

“Hey guys,” Asami smiled at them, but it almost looked like a wince as she wrestled with the notion that _they knew._ This was her coming out. Her heart was pounding as she realised it, but her panic ceased in her chest, as Korra laced her fingers between her own and squeezed them.

“The pancakes need flipping,” she chided her gently.

“Oh _God, not again,”_ Asami scooped her hair behind both ears and got back to work. 

“I don’t believe it,” Mako uttered.

“I _told_ you she could cook,” Korra shot back, and Asami could only blush as she tried not to mess it up.

“One dish is not cooking,”

“For Asami it is!” Bolin defended happily, leaping to his assigned seat at the kitchen island, eyes widening and glistening as he picked up the place card with his name on. “This is adorable,” he squee’d quietly, momentarily forgetting the awful.

“We had a lot of time to worry about this,” Asami explained, flipping cakes carefully, but sparing a glance to read his expression as he stared at her searchingly.

“The place cards and food are all you,” Korra rubbed the small of her back before turning to the glasses on the counter and filling them. 

Their eyes were bouncing, and they felt every bit like an exhibition at the zoo as their friends watched, loaded with the knowledge that they were in love, and shouldn’t have been. 

Opal tried not to stare, and encouraged the boys out of their coats to give them something to do while breakfast was being plated.

Asami served, quick and anxious, five plates of pancakes and bacon and eggs at a frightening speed. They sat at the stools, feeling every bit as awkward as they looked and seeing them this way, Asami broke.

“I know what I did was wrong,” she spared a glance at Korra, who wrapped her hand around hers again, tight and comforting, “all of it, before Iroh- I understand if you think of me differently now. I didn’t think I was capable of cheating,” Korra winced at the word, but Asami pressed on, “I also didn’t think I was capable of loving someone as much I love Korra,”

The faces of her friends were soft now, listening intently, even Bolin whose weakness was laid out on a plate in front of him.

“I married Iroh because all I had was what I was supposed to do, and after, nothing felt right…except,” she could only squeeze Korra’s hand as a continuance, “I was numb, before, and empty, I locked it all away because my mom died and I had been _punished_ -” the last word fell out of her as though she’d been punched in the throat, as though Hiroshi were clenching her wind pipe and telling her _not to speak ever again._ Korra’s hand in hers eased the pain, just enough to push through, “ _I had been punished for loving Korra before_ , when we were children,”

This was new information to all three of her friends, her remaining pseudo family. She hadn’t realised she was weeping until tears dropped into the syrup pool on her plate, and she swiped still looking down at them.

“And Iroh he, we weren’t right for each other, as soon as I knew I tried to end it…but he was capable-”

Bolin cut her off with a simple motion, reaching across the table, standing on the ladder of his stool to take her hand and steel her.

There was no around to Korra’s kitchen island, at least not on that side, that attached to the wall and phone, so he climbed, instinctively, strangely agile for a man of his size, crumpling Asami into his chest in a bear hug as soon as his sneakers touched her side of the linoleum. 

There was a moment she was stunned by it, red and jade eyes wide and peering over his shoulder, before her fingers dug into his jacket and folded it into her her palms and she stuffed her face in the warm safety of his shoulder.

“You two really love each other?” he asked.

“Yeah, Bo,” it was such a relief to say it, that it came out in a breathy chuckle.

“Good,” he let her go, “Then I don’t have to give you both the _if you hurt her,_ big brother talk,”

“I’m older than you!” Asami chided, rubbing her tear stained cheek with the heel of her palm, while gazing and laughing fondly at him.

“And don’t you forget it!” he exulted, laughing, weeping just enough.

“Your food’s getting cold,” Asami sniffled, before glancing at her other two friends, who looked like their hearts had grown three sizes at the show of affection Bolin had given. 

Bolin climbed back over the table top and Korra muttered.

“ _There’s an easier way to do that.”_ she poked at her food with her fork while murmuring something about _shoe prints,_ and suddenly she felt attention turning to her. They wanted her side.

“I knew what I was doing,” she looked up, and tried not to be smug about it, but she couldn’t help the sense of pride knowing how far they’d made it, “I mean at first I tried to fight it, you know, issues of morality, _you’re married, you’ve never wanted me this way that I wanted you_ , it was a whole thing,” she tried to be light about it, but the derisive look Opal was giving her had her softening, “thank you by the way,” she offered, and Opal gave a smirk. 

“I couldn’t let myself believe it, for a split second I felt bad for Iroh, but mostly if it was true and you could love me this way, how much time have I wasted not being with you?” she turned to Asami, and smiled at her wistfully, her thumb tracing arches over the back of her hand, “Even before I knew the why and how of what happened to you, and how you felt, when you kissed me for the first time…I knew I should have been braver, sooner,” driven by the words she lifted the hand Asami held and kissed her knuckles, the surprised sigh Asami gave was only perceptible to her ears then, “I should have taken more risks, and been riskier, and so from then on I was. Perhaps we should have done it differently but in the moment, I was hooked, completely.” 

Her brows drew inward, lips thinning as she struggled with the final part, tearing her gaze away from their hands to her eyes.

“How can you deny your soul when it meets its mark?” she blinked and a tear fell too, but she hadn’t time to dwell on it before Asami jumped forward, cupping her cheek and was kissing her soft and true and as chaste as she could manage. 

It was then the trio was reminded by the glint of silver on Asami’s hand, no longer gold.

“You two are married now?” Mako pressed, a little sarcastic and accidentally abrasive.

“No,” Asami shook her head blushing, clearing her throat, “it was just so the hospital would let us see each other, I had some rings on me and last time…I wanted to make sure she could visit me and if anything happened to me…well Iroh is technically my only family but since he put me there…”

“So you’re confessing to a felony too?” he joked, to which Korra responded.

“Why? You a cop? You’ve never mentioned it _a thousand times_?”

They shared a laugh and finally it was easy. The friends ate, and Opal was ever curious about their trip away, conscious of hiding what she already knew. Korra’s warning looks being the only sharpness in the room that when the subject was changed it became easy breezy again.

“You’re not going together?” Mako questioned, when the subject of Korra leaving to visit her mother was brought up. Opal knew as much, when Korra had called asking them over, she’d become something of a confidant and accomplice in Korra’s deceptions.

“My folks don’t know I’m gay, I’d rather they didn’t find out I was in love with my best friend this way,”

“Are you going to bring protection?” Mako interjected.

“If you’re asking to be my chaperone - no, I don’t want them to think we’re back together that’s all I need.”

“ _Korra_ ,”

“It’s a dinky little trip, with security at the ports up the wazoo, I’ll be fine, Mako really, the Mayors house has protection.”

She may have been exaggerating a bit, but she didn’t want to show up to her hometown, outed, with stormtroopers. She could see the headlines in the Water Tribe Tribune now - _Knock knock? Who’s there? The Gay Agenda._

“I’ll have my guys escort you to the ports _at least,”_ Mako pressed, and Korra nodded in assent. Much had changed since they were dating, namely they were now both capable of compromising.

“I have a favour to ask,” Korra pressed, “Asami’s wound is kind of in a hard place and it needs changing,”

“I can let it breathe,” she protested.

“And it might get infected,” Korra admonished calmly, her eyes sweet and difficult for her to say no to, especially as her palm squeezed her thigh.

“I’ll do one,” Bolin offered.

“As will I,” Opal added.

“Sure, yeah I’ll help.”

Korra smiled at her friends warmly and back at her girlfriend who felt every bit like a scorned child.

“Three options.”

Asami’s preferred option was staying with Korra and weathering the storm at the Southern Water Tribe, but they’d discussed this already. She could give Korra this, so she nodded. 

As Korra explained what she’d learned from the nurses, Bolin made notes in a notepad. When the conversation moved on to other things he was distracted by Asami’s recipes and doodles and the little heart with K + A. His next fascination was Korra’s sketchbook he’d been leaning on. 

While Asami had made placeholders, Korra had sketched to keep calm, innocuous memories of hands tangled in the sheets, Asami’s smile in the pillow. He started to flip the page and caught a glimpse of her racier sketches before she snapped the book shut in his palms.

Both were blushing, and Korra desperately tried to change the subject before the rest of them noticed Bolin had just seen Asami’s nude form.

“H’okay! I think it’s about time for me to go,” she placed the book beside Asami’s knees on the table before bowing over her to kiss her forehead, and cheeks and eyelids and lips firm and chaste. “This isn’t goodbye, I’ll be back so soon,”

“You better be,” Asami gripped her shirt and tugged her in for another achingly chaste kiss. “I love you,” she felt indulgent, so she tacked on “ _so much_ ,” and watched it delight her in response.

“I love you too,” Korra’s whole face lights up as she says it, unbeknownst to her friends who are watching her smile so wide. 

“I’ll wait with you outside,” Opal offered. Mako was already on the phone calling for an escort. Bolin sat beside Asami with a mind to comfort her, but his eyes drew back to the book on the coffee table. 

“You saw me naked didn’t you?” Asami scrunched her nose up while patting his arm.

“She’s really talented!” he said a little too loudly. 

“Yeah, she is,” Asami caught her gaze then and Korra smirked at her before stepping out.

Opal followed her to the curb, luckily Korra was already packed from her almost-trip a few days ago, before Asami had professed her love.

“Okay you’re not going to acknowledge it so I’m just going to say it - I think you’re making a mistake,” 

Korra inexplicably felt her lips curling up into a smile. She couldn’t help it, it was rare she let herself feel the care that others inflicted upon her, it was happening more and more these days, and she was becoming grateful for it.

“This isn’t her fight,” she kicked the pavement and gravel chips at her toes, “I should’ve done this a long time ago.” when she looked at her she lifted the veil of sadness she’d been keeping back, “my mother knows now, and I think-” she heaved a breath, in through her nose, out through an ‘o’ in her lips, “I think they hate me for it,”

“So you’re going it alone? Whats the point? _They know_ \- Bring her - she would want to be there for you,”

“I can’t let my parents put her through what her father did to her, not again,”

“What do you mean?”

“If they react badly, or I should say even worse…she’s suffered enough…there’s still hope I can talk some sense into them in person and _turn it around_ but if I can’t…Asami has already been disowned by a family, I won’t make her go through it through me,”

The car pulled up, an officer offering to take her bag and nodding up at Mako at the window, their other friends there too, watching. Korra gave a wave too.

"Just take a minute to think-” Opal protested.

“Opal I can’t - I have to get ahead of this,”

“Korra-”

“I’m going to miss the boat,”

****

It feels like hours, but it could only have been minutes truly, when Opal returns to the apartment, and Asami feels just how wrong it is to be there without Korra,

“Okay,” Opal claps her hands together, banishing the dip in atmosphere, “is it too early to find out what she’s like in bed?”

“Absolutely _not,”_

_“Absolutely yes,”_

Asami and Mako answer respectively. Opal felt mischievous watching the older brother squirm, and Asami blush but smile. She’d never seen her smile quite so much. 

“Hands up those of us who _haven’t dated Korra?”_

Opal’s hand is the only one to rise. 

“Are you kidding me Bolin?”

“It was one date!”

“He bought her flowers.” Mako teased, finally glad to have a one up on his brother. 

The hours ticked by a little faster after Bolin broke out a board game from Korra’s bookshelf, and Asami crushed them individually at first, and then as a team when beating her alone seemed impossible.

Opal changed the first bandage after a while, alone just girls in the bathroom, Asami clung onto her fingers when she got the chance, wanting to thank her for _oh so muc_ h, but not being able to muster the words.

“Did Korra mention that I saw you two? Before?”

“No when?”

“In the gym, after practice,”

Asami whipped her head around so fast she almost gave herself a crick, covering her horrified expression with both hands.

“Relax, boss, it’s just sex,” Opal tried to play it down, but her embarrassment showed in the pink over the tips of her ears.

“I swear I’m not like this, but I guess with Korra I kind of am,”

“That good huh?”

“You have no idea,” Asami huffed, turning away so she could finish dressing her wound, it was somehow easier to speak this way, “She notices me, what I want before I even know I want it and need it and she’s relentless _in the best way and_ …this is too much information,”

“Well you know Korra, she had a lot of practice,”

“You knew?”

“I was kind of the keeper of her secrets, well, the big one, how she felt about you,” Opal squared off the bandage the way that Korra showed her; with a thumb and a flourish.

“I’m sorry you had that burden,” Asami fiddled with the buttons of her shirt.

“I was happy to help her, honestly, but we didn’t know you could love her back,” 

Asami fell silent at that, imagining the conversations she wasn’t privy to, how Korra loved her, and it was pertinent that Asami should never know.

“Did you want me to?”

“We wanted you to be happy, whatever that meant…seeing you now, I think you are finally,” Opal rubbed her arm and Asami turned, “You are happy with her right?”

“Absolutely,” Asami looked her in the eye when she said it.

They rejoined the boys going over their Pai Sho strategies on the carpet. 

It turned out her friends were the perfect distraction, all Asami had to do was sit back and listen to them fill the air with levity. Until a knock at the door cut it like a knife. Mako went to answer.

He spoke in hushed tones with the officer in question, and was handed a file, he sounded excited, yet tense, something had happened, Asami could feel it in the down on the back of her neck.

When the officer left, Mako could only look down at the file before gazing over to Asami, his face warring with personal conflict. Eventually he knelt back where he had been sitting by the Pai Sho table, but turned his body to hand the file to her.

“They’ve got him,” his eye twitched, though this was joyous news, something tainted it, “he’ll only speak to you,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Reason - Hoobastank


	17. If You Think It’s Love - King Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If You Think It’s Love - King Princess
> 
> Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley
> 
> Runs in the Family - Amanda Palmer

Asami’s eyes burned, her jaw clenching, and her thumb crunched down on her index and ring fingers sequentially as she listened to Mako. She didn’t have to go, she didn’t have to subject herself to more trauma, they had him on witness testimony alone, whether or not he would take an insanity plea for lenience, she and Korra were safe. 

Korra wasn’t here to talk this through with her. For comfort, for guidance, for her vilified opinions on her soon-to-be-official ex. As disheartening as it was there was a single pro; that Asami could murder Iroh herself and her best friend wouldn’t stand in the way. _Just have to get Mako to be cool with it._

She looked him up and down, with his hair quaffed back, air of authority and badge firmly clasped on his hip even on his day off. _Who am I kidding he’ll never be cool with it._

“I’ll go,” Asami cut him off, “For closure.”

“Are you sure?” Mako questioned.

“Are you sure you’re not _insane_?” Opal pressed.

“No, and _unclear_ ,” Asami blinked finally, “The wound is fresh and frankly so are the nightmares,” Her brain throbbed as it conjured the searing memory of Korra screaming. “If I see him, _ensconced,_ it’ll help, I think.”

“He’s there, _locked up,_ there’s pictures,” Opal snatched the mugshot from the files and pushed them into Asami’s hands, “There’s a police report, he’s not getting out, not until the trail,” 

“I did this to him,”

“No, you are not doing this out of some sense of misplaced guilt. _He shot you,_ any loyalty you had left to him is off.”

Asami’s eyes skimmed the type, courier new, her fingers could feel the indents under the paper, warm and fresh.

_Diary of Y Sato._

She didn’t know what she was looking for, but it wasn’t that. The words were barbs, as if Iroh hadn’t taken enough from her, he had to steal from her mother too.

“There are things I have to say,” 

“Say it through a lawyer like a normal divorcee, _god,_ Korra _just_ left town and asked us to take care of you-” Opal seethed.

“So come with me, we’ll go tomorrow morning, set up an appointment,” her tone shut down further protest. She turned the files over to her Assistant in a power move she usually reserved for the boardroom, still her rage was unbridled and it was difficult to reel in, “About that divorce…” 

Already Asami could see the chain reaction in Opal’s brilliant mind, silently planning the course of the day, removing obstacles and burdens without so much as saying a word. All Asami had to think about was the outfit that would be the most devastating. A pant suit with fuck you stitched into the pin stripes. The black Prada with the pencil skirt would have to do, paired red pumps with steel in the heel. 

In the early hours, she left the firehouse guided by a cavalcade of undercover cop cars, evading press. Bejewelled, bruised eye shaded, lipstick dark and bloody like war paint, silk gloves covering the ring she now refused to take off, hair sleek and in a cogent wave balanced on her shoulder. Her adrenaline coursing through her every vein, warming her cockles in the crisp morning light. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Opal asked, handing over the minted divorce papers with the same reluctance one would have giving bacon to someone about to go swimming with sharks.

“I’m being brave,” Asami whispered so quiet, Opal took a moment to understand what she said, “like Korra,” and another to wonder if Asami knew what her counterpart was really up to.

Her heels against steel floors petered off behind closing doors and turning locks, and Opal listened for them until the last moment, barely present until she felt the calm circles Bolin was rubbing between her shoulder blades. 

Instinctively, she leaned into him and his lips and scruffy chin brushed her temple. 

“Tell me they’ll be okay,” she breathed.

“ _Z’ey’ll ‘e o’ay,”_ Bolin murmured against her skin, and she smiled. 

“They have you, us, mainly you,” Mako chimed in, eyes up at the first signs of PDA. Opal rolled her eyes, and let Bolin sway her.

“This is crazy.” she breathed, “we were at their wedding a month ago,” 

“Now we know why Korra looked like she was about to jump off a bridge.”

“The sapphics of Republic City would have been devastated.” Opal chagrinned.

“They still might,” Mako smirked, “now she’s found her mark." 

”They’ve been in front of each other all this time,” Opal hummed, “just orbiting for a decade and a half,”

The trio fell into silence as they observed the memories of their friends fondly in their mind, searching for signs of what they’d found in each other, in the before. Scandal, betrayal and secrecy aside, Bolin found clarity in his most recent memories; the breakfast that morning and the tender embrace they’d walked in on that preceded it; the rosetta stone for all that had occurred.

“Have either of you seen them this happy before?” 

****

“Asami,” Iroh’s voice was a husk, his wife could hear the soreness in it, from shouting, from screaming, but here it was soft, eerily so, _“It’s good to see you finally_ ,”

He stood, in his jumpsuit raising his shackled hands as high as they would go above the table.

“You’re joking.” 

“I’m not, you look well considering…I’m so-”

“ _Save it,_ ” Asami seethed, “You didn’t call me here for some measly apology,”

“I’ll admit I thought there was a chance we’d _both_ make amends,”

Asami scoffed.

“ _You shot me._ ” 

It only took a simple jab for his true colours to bleed through.

“ _You_ went behind my back and whored around with that-that _dyke_ ,” there was a slam that had Asami flinching, her eyes snapped to the point of impact and saw Iroh’s meaty palm pressing the cover of her mother’s diary, amongst other publications, “your parents must be rolling in their graves to see what you’ve become. Oh wait, you had them obliterated so they wouldn’t do that.”

She bore down at the need to snatch at her mothers words. He'd invaded on secrets that Asami was not yet party to herself. She wanted to weep, she wanted to scream, but instead she said in a tone even and measured.

“What do you want from me?” as she spoke she removed her shades, revealing the bruises still purple framing the jade of her eye. She hoped they would cut him from sight alone. He winced, as though he himself were, however briefly, afraid of the man that had made them.

He spread the pages beneath his hands, calmer now, the headlines Asami read for the first time.

_FUTURE INDUSTRIES CEO IN LESBIAN AFFAIR_

_SECRET LOVE GETAWAY NEAR GAO LING_

_SATO BRIDE BEDS MAID OF HONOUR_

“The truth,” though he was gentle now, the words brought back the memory of the last time he’d asked for it, the sting in her cheek, her nose, her shoulder. 

“I told you before, Iroh,” she spoke nonchalantly, still reading, removing her gloves, hoping the flash of silver would kill him stone dead, “I love her,”

“Before our wedding?” He gave pause before saying, Asami knew it was from the acute piercing sting from the ring she wore, deep into his chest, preferably twisting.

“Always,”

“You’ve always been gay. Is that what you’re saying? You’re infatuated with her as a tween, daddy says no, so years later you marry me?”

“Its complicated,” her fingers traced the diary, the leather notches rough and smooth all at once beneath her thumb and forefinger. She looked up, recalling her own evidence, “You never wanted to be with me, not forever, you were going to leave me at the altar, why didn’t you?”

“It’s complicated,” 

Asami sat now, splaying her fingers, skimming the articles while he waited. Drawn to the pictures, the moments she’d thought sacred, desecrated by the press. Korra’s smile, only for her, captured and sold, stolen like pieces of her soul. She pointed to a date, speculating when if all began, the paper was wrong, it missed so much out. How Asami felt when Korra kissed her, at once powerful and vulnerable, alive and astral. How safe she made her feel. The conflict that marred those early days. The agony of just the thought of losing her best friend, or betraying her husband. 

“We slept together on the fourteenth,” She pointed at a timeline in the Sun, “we kissed for the first time a few days before, it was raining, and she ran into it, and I wanted to follow but… she said she couldn’t do this, that I was making a mistake...as if it hadn’t already been made.” she made a point of looking him in the eye as she said this.

“You kept going?”

“When we got to Gao Ling I said I didn’t want to fight this, and she…she showed me everything she felt,” her lips smiled fondly at the memory. Trailing off she relived the moments, in claps like thunder, Korra on her knees, her face between her legs, holding her up, her fingers filling her on the couch, the bed, a cacophony of mouths and lips and breasts and shaking hands. “Sex with her is more intense and emotional than I have ever felt with anyone else,” she tried not to jab him with it, despite its implication, “still she wanted me to test my feelings with you,  but the more time I was with her I knew.” 

“In our bed?”

“Never,”

He paused and inspected her, his own memories. 

“You kissed her before I left,” He deduced aloud, recalling the clothes they were both wearing, the red on Korra’s lips and neck, “in the gym?”

Asami pursed her lips, averting her eyes, nodding. After all she’d done she thought she’d be used to the sensation of a tonne of bricks falling on her head by now.

_“Did you fuck her in the gym too_?” he accused, “In the kitchen? The parlour? _The stairs_? Were you rolling around the board for a lesbian fucking cluedo?”

Asami snapped her eyes back to his, sharp viridian’s had him flinching back into his seat.

“ _You don’t want to know,_ Iroh, you don’t want to know she stripped me how she went down on me on the kitchen counter after you left and had me seeing stars! Your pot roast cooling on the stove while she fucked me against the fridge, or how I spent three days testing the limits, learning every inch of her with my tongue,” she went too far she knew, but every word that seemed to whip him gave her vindication. The wound on her shoulder still howling, began to simmer instead she she struck each blow, sated by them. 

“How could you betray me like that?” he looked sick, weepy, a startling change from the anger he’d held a minute ago.

“We were liars, to each other, to ourselves… and then you shot me,”

Iroh heaved a sigh, regretful, but without remorse it seemed.

“You were in the way,” he said simply. 

In the moment of impact, of bullet piercing shoulder, Asami had known this. He had been aiming for Korra, but hadn’t cared if he hit her in the process, or at least hadn’t thought Asami cared enough to shield Korra with her own body. Still her repressive memory had shielded her from this until now, and the idea that anyone could or would hurt Korra, made her hungry for blood.

Rising, slowly, fingernails prone on metal of the table between them as she loomed over him, she spoke, her voice even, deep and dark. 

“Listen _very_ carefully Iroh because I need you to understand - If you so much as look at her ever again - _I will kill you._ I don’t need a gun to do it.”

His eyes dimmed in her shadow, his aura wilting in her fury, new and devastating all the same.

“So you have absolution then,”

Asami pushed aside the papers and placed her own in front of his hands. He looked down at the divorce papers, disbelief in his visage however inexplicable.

“I want you out of my life.” she took a pen from inside her lapel and dropped it on top without finesse or care, “Sign these,”

She snatched a newspaper and the diary while she could, turning on her heel and making for the exit as though she’d stolen from the vault. She didn’t make it far when his hand folded around her still tender wrist and she lurched away from him.

“ _Wait,”_ there was a weakness in the crack of his voice that, against her better judgements, gave her pause, “I am sorry since we started…I need help, its not an excuse…”

She watched him, rescinding his hand back into his lap and cradling it with the other as though he’d been burned. She went over the revolving door of personalities he’d seemed to have of late, one after the other, that followed tangents each more different than the last.

“I read your personnel file before coming here today,” she murmured, soft, sympathetic but for this, he gave her a confused look, as one would give when admitting to what was essentially a crime. Technically one Opal had committed by digging up his confidential black ops files. “You’d been on some pretty rough tours this past year, working up to the promotion. Saw some things. Forwent therapy. You told me none of it.” 

“What does it matter?”

“I was your fiancé, and then your wife, whether I loved you or not, I couldn’t connect with you. I couldn’t help you,”

His gaze turned up to her then, earnest, curious.

“You hurt me Iroh. Potentially worse than even my father. Maybe your job did this to you, maybe its the world we come from - you have a laundry list of issues that you kept from me and it created such a _massive overreaction_. _Affairs happen_ and people can get through them withou _t drawing a weapon._ If you’d have listened to me, on the day…I would have said _I’m sorry for my part in it_ , and clearly in the public eye I’m more humiliated than you - but I can’t apologise for actually falling in love. Korra and I…we should’ve been together before you and I even met.”

His eyes fell onto the diary in her hands, instinctively she clutched it closer, her mother’s ring digging into the leather cover.

“I know,” 

Asami’s breath was snatched from her then, as though she’d been holding it until that exact moment. Eyes closed and lips pursed she felt it, the bind around her chest relinquishing, finally, _finally,_ free.

"I just…” he babbled, lost, confused, conflicted, "tell me there’s forgiveness in our future.”

“Even if you deserved it,” she opened her eyes, flickering between him and the documents that would purge him, “I wouldn’t know where to start,”

With that she bolted as fast as her heels and decorum would take her, clutching the writings to her breast until she sprung out into the open air. Opal stood straight upon seeing her, shoulders falling, relaxed, until she saw what Asami was holding.

“You knew about this? Coffee no paper this morning, I thought you were frazzled but you knew,” the trio balked in silence, watching her, breaths heaving, shoulder howling in pain finally, gloves and papers contorted in her hands so she could show them the front page.

“ _Stop looking at me like that_ you knew, I know I had you keep it in confidence, Korra, Iroh everything, but I- I had a _plan_ and it was going to happen slowly, we could control the press and everything would be okay and the company _and our lives_ \- Opal I’m sorry,”she shook her head, tears leaking. A hard lump formed in her throat as her mind followed the stream of consequence behind a simple headline. The company she’d ripped up from the ground after her father’s scandal, surely couldn’t survive another, not of this magnitude. _Of course they know, I was an idiot to think anything of mine is private._

“Korra asked us to keep the papers away from you,"

“ _What_?” Asami ripped open the front page to the second double page spread on Korra and her family. Quotes and testimonies given by correspondents at the Water Tribe Tribune. Her father the mayor, in all his regalia complete with family portrait, dimpled Korra in her wolf tails. 

“Oh God,” she covered her mouth, “they all know,”

_I don’t think they’ll like it._ The pain on Korra’s face when she’d said that filled her minds eye and had an already pounding heart clenching.

“She knows,”

“Her mother isn’t sick?” Opal shook her head, unwilling to say the rest, but it was clear in her silence. “ _Get the jet,_ ” 

“It’s already on the runway,” Opal gave a smirk, that disappeared as Asami snatched at her, yanking her into a strained, tight embrace.

“ _You’re my best friend,_ ” she laughed helplessly.

“ _Korra’s_ your best friend,” Opal admonished, but couldn’t help the mist in her vision then.

“Korra’s my soulmate,” Asami let her go, “So you’ve been promoted.”

****

Korra resolved to hide in the sleeping cabins for as long as she was on the ferry. The twelve hour journey had all the amenities passengers of all kinds might need for making the trip; a bar, a deli, arcades, duty free, and for Korra, potentially hundreds of people who would recognise her from birth. 

More than once these trips had become impromptu high school reunions - the absolute last thing Korra needed given the nature of her own. 

In the middle bunk of a triple bunk bed, hood up, arms folded, chin down she feigned sleep for as long as she could. Until the passenger on the upper bed opposite her started tipping over the edge with the curl of the choppy sea. She spent the better part of an hour nudging him back up on his bunk with her foot, as he snored loudly, rolling, unconscious and seemingly barrel like. 

Eventually he gave a large snort and woke himself up, squirming deeper into his little pod that gave Korra the time to feel her hunger brewing. She hadn’t had anything to eat since Asami’s breakfast that morning, already that felt an age ago.

When the brewing; became gnawing, became nausea, she got up, shielding her face as best she could with her hood, pacing the corridors before she heard the din of passengers milling, and machines lighting up dropping prizes, coins, money and food. Something about the idea of home and being on the boat gave her a craving for Water Tribe cuisine, however disappointing it might be out of a vending machine or canteen. 

It wasn’t until she had a cup of steaming seaweed noodles in her hands did she begin to relax a little, in her own little world as the fragrant dish sent her senses sizzling with a lifetime of memories. 

She looked about the lobby and the bar, at the families and travellers coming home or visiting for a long list of traditional festivals that Korra no longer bothered to keep track of. For a moment she considered the notion that no-one here knew, that no-one here cared, that she shouldn’t worryso much about what people thought because it was simply more likely that they didn’t think of her at all.

Until of course, a sallow, snark voice taunted her from her periphery.

“Come to grovel for Uncle’s forgiveness, have we dear cousin?” Desna sneered.

“It is bold of her to return after completely humiliating herself and her entire side of the family.” Eska followed, the twins in their matching robes and hair cuts sidled into place looming over her at her table. 

She’d almost finished her comfort food, swallowing the last bite turned bitter at the sight of the spectres in blue, and in Eska’s case, purple eye shadow.

“No matter, we should be thanking for her _salacious_ activities, after all our father shall be reaping the benefits soon,”

“He was always the better Mayor - “

“You know what?” Korra tossed her spoon into her cup on the table and stood, “I’m sorry _cousins_ , I can’t listen to this,” she snapped, pocketing her hands and turning them up empty, “for I am fresh out of _fucks_ to give you,”

She gestured again with her empty palms for emphasis. 

“And I am just so sorry, that you two are either going to _die alone lonely bitter people never knowing love,_ or _together with only the other for company_ , and I cannot fathom which fate is worse truly.” 

Korra felt her eyes darken as her own vengeful soul creeped out through her eyes, and for a moment she thought she watched her relatives pale at the sight of her, 

“Worse than either of those two horrible ends; is that a newspaper could look at how _inseparable_ you two are, and see it as _salacious,_ or something a thousand times worse than the love I have found with a woman. So. _Back off._ Or I’ll start a rumour even you can’t crawl out from underneath,”

Their cousin had been unassuming and meek in their eyes before this point. A weakness of their father’s opponents political campaign that they were aching to exploit. Yet at her venomous words, the twins looked sick and actually recoiled from her.

Wordlessly she stalked back from the bunks, not exactly proud of what she’d said, owing that they were in close enough proximity to be heard by literally anyone. 

The ferry was pulling into port soon any way, so she made to get her bag and coat from the luggage check with what felt like a thousand eyes watching her. 

She sat leaning against the wall to the exit, heart thrumming, stomach churning, desperately concentrating on her breaths to centre herself. 

_In through the nose, hold, out through the mouth…_

On she went until the final clamps had been secured and the doors swung open. Korra pelted down the walkway into the oncoming storm. She was so riled and feverish that the icy shards and sharp wind were welcome as it seeped into her open coat. Flurries of snow swirling above and around her, errant flakes landing on her skin and evaporating instantly. She’d missed this feeling. Her body knew that this was meant to be her home, but her memories told a different story.

Korra got in a cab and was grateful the driver had to concentrate on the road in the blizzard. 

He said no more than, “It’s going to be a long one, but the worst is a while off.”

Korra already knew this, her scars tingled before bad storms, for a moment she wondered if Asami’s would too. _Asami,_ she thought, it was enough to just hold her in her mind then and get lost in the memories. Her smile, her hands, Korra loved her hands, she missed them. 

She held her own and traced her thumb over the crook of her left. It wasn’t the same. 

Before she could dwell the car pulled to a stop. She fumbled putting cash into his hand at the window and she watched after him as he peeled off into the building white fog. 

Her boots met with the crunch of snow, eleven steps to the porch, and another to the bell. 

Senna opened the door and stared. Heart in her throat as she watched her daughter, looking back, pensive, tense, twisting the strap of her bag with both hands.

“Can I come in?”

Her mother was numb to everything except hospitality, stepping aside. Korra closed the door but hadn't enough optimism to begin removing her coat. 

“Well,” she began, dropping her bag on the floor “I’m home,”

“Why are you here?”

“Are…are you kidding? I came home… to talk about this?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Senna’s response was reactionary. Korra knew her mother had done nothing but think about what she’d learned. She also knew from her tone that she hadn’t come to the conclusion she’d hoped.

“The world is talking about this, the tribe, hell you started the conversation by calling me.”

Senna’s jaw worked, her arms coiled tighter over her chest.

“Now isn’t a good time. Your father he’s dealing with the _tribe_ and-“

"Who cares about a bunch of bigots so frozen to their traditions they're likely to die clutching them - I am your daughter - I’ve found someone I love-”

“ _A married someone_ ,” Senna snapped, the bone exposed, reeling, hand gesturing wildly to expel the energy of something she found truly bizarre, “a married _woman_ someone you never told us you were interested in-”

“You know her name, it’s _Asami_ , Asami Sato, Asami Sato who took care of me and loved me before she even knew what it was. You don’t know what we’ve both had to get through to get to this point, the self loathing, the doubt, her _husband_ -“

“We raised you to know right from wrong Korra, you just- you can’t expect to do this and have us be okay with it,"

“Do you mean the affair or the homosexuality?”

“I-“ 

The phone trilled from inside the house but it gave Senna a fright. It was part of the storm procedures, call around, check in. It was probably Tonraq. Korra remembered; lock the windows, seal the shutters; check on the elders, the neighbours. 

All Korra could think was that she still had time to find somewhere else to stay. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped here. 

“I can’t deal with this right now,” Senna whispered, and made for the phone to cut it off. 

“Then _don’t_ ,” Korra croaked. When Senna turned to gauge her meaning, she was already gone, sprinting with tears stinging sharp on her cheeks. 

She didn’t know where she was running until she had the coast in her sights, she didn’t particularly care. She came to a skidding halt on the cliffs, and with nowhere to go or hold her anger she could only stand there and let it consume her. She wept and cried out only to have her voice drowned out by the wind. 

_I’m such an idiot._ She swiped at tears and sore cheeks as she thought, _I should have brought her._

Asami was with their friends in Republic City, an ocean away from being able to hold her through this, yet in that very moment, it was all Korra wanted. 

She was so lost in her self loathing and brooding she barely noticed the figure pottering over the cliff side. When she did she did a double take. An elderly woman was embarking on the steps that hugged the cliff face in a bath robe. 

“Katara?” Korra followed, and felt relief that the elder looked up at her with recognition in her face. 

Still Korra inspected her for perhaps too long looking for signs she’d finally gone senile.

“Korra! What a surprise! Well don’t stand around, you should head on home, storms coming,”

“I can’t,” Korra yelled back over the wind and Katara took her turn to inspect the younger woman. She held out her hand.

“You can hunker down with me,” she told her, eyes crinkling in that gentle way. As Korra took her fingers she noted that she was decidedly being dragged away from Katara’s home near the cliffs, and yet further down them, down down, until the steps stopped at a door way, and Katara produced the only key.

“We were going to wait until you were an Elder to show you this, but given the circumstance,”

“How do you know I’m still going to…” Korra trailed off, the door had been opened, and in the glassy cliff face was a hidden cave, warm and _green,_ “…be here when I’m old,”

Korra watched seals that had been lounging near a pond disappear in to a river behind bamboo and tufts of actual grass. Soft looking and manicured to a tee.

“You can leave the tribe, leave the country, leave this _planet_ , but it’ll always be a part of you,” Katara answered simply. As though it were that easy, as though Korra’s father weren’t writing a declaration of banishment as they spoke. 

Katara folded her robe upon the grass, and in her striped swimming suit dipped into the crystal pool waters without hesitation.

“Aren’t you freezing?” Korra couldn’t keep the concern from her voice. 

“Quite the opposite actually,” but she could hear the smile in Katara’s. Gingerly she knelt by the pool and dipped her hand, it was as warm and soothing as bath water.

“What is this place?” she snatched it back.

Katara popped an eye, floating on the surface.

“Tell me your parents told you about the Spirit Oasis?”

“It’s a _myth_ ,”

“You are myth-taken,” Korra only balked, looking around the ice above them, the seemingly bottomless pond below, she could even spy fish dancing in the darkness, “My husband would have laughed at that,”

“I’m sorry it’s just, I need a minute. There’s so many ridiculous stories about the tribe, it’s hard to know which are true,”

“Of course they’re all true! What do you remember about the Oasis?”

“Warriors would come here,” Korra recalled, eyes closed, feeling the swathes of churning steam caress her face, “and the moon and ocean spirits would heal them, keep them warm, give them shelter. It was usually the part in the story, right before the end, before the real conflict took place,”

“What would it give them?”

“Resolve, level headed-ness, strength, wisdom.”

“Now you know why I’m here,” Katara cupped the water to her cheeks as though it were an elixir. Korra couldn’t help but admire her faith in it. “The warriors who used these pools were changemakers, every story started in adversity and ended in a new tradition being born. As an elder, it’s important to understand the value of the changing world.” 

“I’m not a warrior,” Korra thumbed her palm, still wet from the pond, “or an elder,"

“No one is, in the beginning,” Katara mused, still floating. 

Korra didn’t pack a bathing suit, she wasn’t expecting to need one in the southern most tip of the country, of a town that was essentially oil, ice and bears. Still it had a certain draw. When in Rome and all. She copied Katara and washed her face in the warm, even throwing some over her neck for good measure. Her muscles eased, and the tension headache in her forehead faded, eyes closed, body calming, she listened to the trickle of the woman in the water, and tried to remember how those stories ended. 

At least until a shrill electronic bleeping cut the air. 

“Could you check my pager? It’s in my robe,”

“I thought you were retired from being the towns only Doctor, Katara,”

“I’ll retire when this town get’s another one. For now I listen in for any trouble,”

Korra laughed.

“Like a vigilante.”

Her smile faded when she saw the screen. 

“That’s my address,” and like that her heart started pounding again, “Katara, _my parents_ ,”

****

Asami’s pilot informed her they had a small window of time wherein they could evade the storm. Unfortunately it was so small, the jet couldn’t stand by, and would have to leave immediately. 

This was Asami’s hail Mary, she was here for Korra wherever she was and missing that window was out of the question. 

She thought this right up until she watched the jet take off from the runway, freezing cold enveloping her as it never had before. Her coat was too thin, hell her shoes were too thin, the leather turning brittle rather than soft. She rolled a modest suitcase through the private airport, suddenly desperate to hail a cab.

“You know where the Mayor’s house is?”

“I don’t think I can-”

“I’ll give you triple your rate, thank you,” 

Asami was clear she wouldn’t be taking no for an answer, as the cold continued to grip her even as she clutched and rubbed her arms.

“Is the heating on?”

“Full ma’am,” the driver replied, adjusting his mirror to get a good look at the wealthy heiress that had mysteriously flown her way _in_ to a storm, “you come this way often? You’ve got a familiar look about you.”

“Never,” Asami shivered, “first time,”

“What a time to pick, the storms going to be a big one, my wife said not to take another, but I said one more can’t hurt.”

“I’m glad you did,” Asami forced a smile, gazing out the window. From their vantage point all of Harbour town was laid before them, winking, fading fast as the snow thickened, “Where are we going?” she craned her neck, looking for anything that looked remotely mayoral.

“Two miles ahead, left, grand old house on the edge of the forest, say I think I’ve seen you in the news, have you been in the news for something?”

“N-no, never,” Asami lied badly, but she hoped the shivering would cover up the bad lying.

“There’s been some crazy things going on in the paper, soap opera level stuff, the Mayors daughter, _woof_ she’s a fag,”

Asami went numb, and she either stopped shivering, or stopped being able to feel it when she straightened her spine and glared at him as he continued to babble.

“Can you imagine, doing that with some one the same- well I daresay it’s uncouth talking about it with a beautiful lady such as yourself ma’am, probably got a handsome husband at home,”

“Actually no,” Asami was truly out of her body and mind at this point, a spectre of rage possessing her lips as she spoke, “I’m a lesbian, _raging,_ my partner is from here, I believe you know her - the Mayor’s Fag daughter! Her name is Korra, by the way, and we’re planning a commitment ceremony on the cliffs in the summer, during the Glacier Spirits Festival - and then we’re talking about kids, sperm donor, or maybe even a gay friend - DIY sort of thing, after all the turkey baster only comes out at thanksgiving anyway right? But we’ll be sure to have just lots and lots of full-filling, awe-inspiring lesbian sex for the rest of our meaningful _happy_ lives, and,” she leaned in as though sharing a conspiratorial anecdote, she noticed the driver didn’t seem to lean back to meet her as she finished, “between you and me - we make each other _orgasm_ more times in a single night than I suspect your wife ever has in _your entire marriage_ , or you know, _at all,_ so _,”_

Asami folded her hands in her lap and sat back to survey the damage. The man before her, who had thankfully stopped the car, had now turned red and was caught between screaming back at her and wanting to make his fare.

“I’ll make this easy then,” she tossed bills into the front seat and got out, slamming the door and marching ahead.The victory from her furious tirade kept her warm for about 40 steps. Soon she was lost in a sea of sameness. White road, white fog, white sky. She had the shape of tyre tracks to follow, but even that was shrinking fast. She felt the cold mostly in her shoulder, her bullet wound tingling in a cacophony of icy pins and needles. 

She tried to figure out how fast she was walking, and how long it would take her to walk two miles. It didn’t seem like such a long distance hearing it, but as her mind slipped with her feet on the ice, and her extremities became numb to the point where she couldn’t feel her suitcase in her grip, or remember if she had left it in the cab in the first place. 

When she came upon a door she was almost worried she’d hallucinated it, still she knocked and found the wood pliant beneath her already chapped knuckles. 

When Senna opened it she looked at her around her chest height, as if she’d been expecting someone else. 

“Is K-Korra here?” Asami’s teeth couldn’t stop chattering, despite the fact that she now felt quite warm, and sleepy, already her eyelids were drooping. 

She couldn’t recall of Senna taking her in, her coat her shoes, guiding her to a bed that smelled familiar and unfamiliar all at once, wrapping her in sheets as she shivered. 

It was then she faded. Voices warming her in and out. It was perhaps the third time waking that Korra was knelt beside her, fingers hot and prone on her wrist, checking her pulse there. 

“ _She was blue,”_ Asami could hear Senna speaking now, “I couldn’t get a word out of her if it wasn’t where’s Korra and I didn’t know what to tell her,”

“You did the right thing,” Asami didn’t know this voice, but from the authority it gave she guessed they were a medical profession of some kind.

“What were you thinking?” Korra whispered.

“I was looking for you,” Asami breathed, finding her shivering hadn’t stopped, only increasing in wakefulness.

“In a _blizzard_?” 

“I pissed off the cabbie,” she laughed, but Korra hadn’t the energy to find it funny. “I’m so cold, Korra,” 

“She’s awake,” Senna whispered.

“Easy, dear, you have hypothermia,” 

“Maybe I should get in with her Katara?” Korra asked, eyes pleading, desperate not to look at her mother. 

“Yes that would help, no rubbing her arms or any of that, it could stop her heart,”

“No heart stopping please,” Asami whimpered turning her face into the pillow as her body continued to jolt and twitch against her will.

“I’ll get changed,” she stood rifling through her bag, and looked up, “if we could get some privacy?” it somehow felt rude to say it, even though this was her bedroom. She tried not to think about why Senna had taken Asami here, tried not to let it give her hope.

When she made to close the door her mother lingered and she paused.

“Look I get this isn’t convenient but we’ll get her warm and lucid, and we’ll go okay…? Unless you’re kicking us out right now?”

Senna looked stung at the notion, shaking her head.

“This is still your home Korra,” she bit her lip and her eyes dropped to Asami behind her, “This is just a lot to process,”

“I know,” Korra conceded, fingers finding the ring on her left hand and turning it mindlessly. By the time she realised Senna could see it was too late, and she flinched. “We’re in this for the long haul, despite how it started, and I’ve _always_ loved her-”

Senna’s hand was on her clavicle, soothing and gentle and stopping her panic before it started.

“Later,” her thumb traced an arc, and it was enough, Korra wrapped her arms around her mother without hesitation. They weren’t there yet, but they’d started, and given the circumstances that was enough. “I’ll bring you both up some soup,” Senna told her on parting, “Your father will be home soon.”

Korra wasn’t sure what to do with the warning, but when her mother left, she closed the door and started to change. 

“You got anything in there for me?” Asami asked, and Korra dug luckily she’d packed a thermal undershirt, but when Asami yanked it on after shedding her own clothes, she reached in for more, her fire ferrets t shirt, her favourite hoodie, the matching tapered tracksuit bottoms. Korra watched as she shuffled in her bed, in layers of her clothes pulling the quilt up to her nose and rubbing it against her cheek. 

“I can’t believe you came,” Korra said, stepping in a manoeuvring herself behind her, wrapping her arms across her stomach and tugging her between her legs. “I’m so glad you did,”

“After you lied about your mom and told me not to,” if there was annoyance in her tone, Asami hid it well, or the shaking did. For something that started like the beginning of a fight, it lost its edge as she burrowed into Korra for search of heat, and Korra clung tighter more than willing to give it to her. 

“I was an idiot,”

“You were reactionary,” Asami normally would have looked into her eyes to chide this way, but found much more satisfaction in rubbing her cheek on her neck, letting her body curl into her, and feeling Korra curl back. Feeding fingers into her hair, taking her hand and blowing her breath, slow for heat, into her fingers. “You should have told me,”

“I know,”

“We should’ve done this together,” if Asami’s teeth weren’t chattering so she would have gone on a tirade. She spent the plane ride in a swirl of confusion and agony, how could Korra keep this from her? How could she let her do this alone? 

She found in Korra’s twin bed, in her childhood bedroom, her priorities had shifted somewhat. She was grateful to be there, and in her drowsiness and shroud of intimacy it was impossible to truly hold on to that anger. As Korra’s lips graced her temple, nothing else seemed to matter. 

“I _know…_ I just wanted to spare you reliving what you went through with your parents, _”_

“I wanted to spare you that Kay, I was alone, you aren’t,” Asami took the hand that held hers and held them aloft, turning her wrist back to hold both hands together, rings almost touching. “I’m still wearing mine because it means I _want_ to be bound to you…all your pleasure and all your pain, I want to share it because I love you…and I don’t really want to take it off and put it back on when we… _you know_ ,” 

Korra laughed once, biting her smile at the very idea of it, trying not to jynx it by thinking of it too fondly, the idea of it however lighting up her every sense.

“We’ve taken so long to get here, I feel like we’ve earned the chance to rush,” Asami confessed, “At least that’s why I’m still wearing mine,” she slipped her hand away, and Korra made for it again, tangling on the sheets in a gentle caress.

“I feel the same way,” 

“Same feeling?”

“Same feeling,” Korra confirmed, “But just to clarify, _we’re not engaged,_ ”

“No,”

“These are like best friendship rings?” Korra offered.

“Opal’s my best friend now,”

“Wh-hat?” 

“She’s been promoted,”

“And what does that make me?”

Asami dared put an inch of space between them to look her in the eye. Her shivering had reduced to a slight but constant tremor but she had enough control to guide her gaze to meet her with a hand to her cheek.

“You’re not my best friend anymore Korra,” and with that she kissed her, soft and sweet, Korra kissing back, gentle and tender.

“My god your hands are cold!”

“My everything is cold! I was standing for like an hour in like no clothes in the frigging Yukon!”

“Why didn’t you bring more clothes?”

“I don’t know!” Asami lamented, hands slipping through the barrier of her t shirt to warm her hands up on her abs. “Come to mama,” 

“You’re still delusional aren’t you?” Korra teased, pressing Asami’s hands against her to better warm them.

“Why aren’t you flinching?” Asami asked her. Every other partner she’d had; retreated from her icy feet and hands. Never Korra.

“Your hands may be the ice equivalent of a branding iron, but it’s my job to fix that,” she tightened her grip, “This is so hard without rubbing,” she lamented, ignorant for the moment, of how her words moved Asami to her frozen core. 

She’d tell her one day, but for now she just wanted to bury her face into Korra’s chest and let her legs tangle with her own. So bury she did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Runs in the Family - Amanda Palmer


	18. Both Hands - Ani DiFranco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both Hands - Ani DiFranco  
> Antibellum - Vienna Tang

The rest of the evening was a quiet one. Despite the howling blizzard outside, residents of the mayoral household settled into the cosy channels of preoccupation. 

Tonraq would be back any minute.

Korra couldn’t ignore the background noise, even from her bed; a cacophony of tense and eerie static. She watched the doorway with apprehension, any minute her mother would come step over the threshold with soup, homemade no doubt, and the last two nights were what? Forgotten?

As she waited she played with Asami’s silken tendrils, absently weaving them over and under her fingertips as her mind riled. Asami herself had taken to hiding her face in the warmth of her chest, whether this was due to the nature of their company or her unnaturally cold nose Korra couldn’t be sure. She was happy to be of service, half her brain dedicated to the act she knew well, and well liked. Still the lost look on her mother’s face still lingered in her periphery. 

Asami was still shuddering lightly in her arms, icy white skin warming flush and clear.

The last thing Korra wanted anyone to do was suffer, yet here she was twisting the knife into the people she loved best. Just because this was inevitable didn’t mean she hadn’t tried desperatelyavoid it. She’d made a point of curving and curating personalities around her family, her friends and Asami for over a decade until she could no longer, and they all came crashing hopelessly together.

However exposed she was now  the reward was undeniable; stroking her cheek against her clavicle, rubbing her cold feet against Korra’s toes, which in their tight and twisted position were beginning to get pins and needles.

Korra would rather die than relieve them.

“…I’ve made up the guest bedroom Katara, you’re more than welcome to wait out the storm with us it’s no trouble,” Senna kept speaking even as she stepped into Korra’s room, tray of soups and tea steaming and aloft. “You might want to give it a minute, it’ll be scolding,”

Stiff and weak, Asami pushed herself away instinctively, slowly, reluctantly sitting back from Korra’s lap the closer her mother came. She meant to thank her, to at least play the part of the respectful girl dating her daughter, with all the regard and fear the relationship deserved. 

“ _Ah_ ,” instead she winced, before she finished the noise Korra knew exactly what had happened before Asami could deny. Her weak hand bowed back to her shoulder and Korra intercepted, her mother forgotten, she scooted forward, tenderly tugging layers of clothing from Asami’s collar to spy the blooming blood on the bandage beneath. 

“Katara _your bag,_ ” she was already turning from the bed, guiding Asami out after her, hand snatched, eyes down as she took her to the bathroom and started washing her hands.

Much of Asami’s possessions had been lost to the anonymous cab driver she’d torn into. In her coat she’d kept the painkillers, but her suitcase was still in the trunk, or more likely scattered in the tundra. It held her bandages, band aids, salves and all manner of personal items she dreaded to think of anyone finding. Her mother’s diary for one. 

She tried to ignore the pang of agony that thought gave her. The loss of her mother’s last words was too insurmountable to conceive.

In a way, getting hypothermia, frightening the life out of Senna and requiring the need of a doctor inexplicably accompanied by her girlfriend was a stroke of good luck; because the good doctor had everything she needed when the wound started to weep. 

“Is everything alright?” Asami glanced back guiltily at Senna in the doorway, continuing to wring her hands in that subtle anxious way. She’d seen Korra mimic her often enough to know exactly what she was feeling.

“No Mom it’s okay,” 

Katara delivered her satchel with a curious expression, watching the two fall into a peculiar dance. Asami shuffled out of her top layer, Korra’s hoodie, and it was with care Korra tugged her shirt down over the bandage, regardless that others could see. 

“How long has it been?”

“Bolin changed it before I left,” Asami whispered blushing hotly, aware of prying eyes, even as she pointedly looked away she caught Senna’s gaze in a mirror’s reflection.

“He did a good job,” Korra smirked assuredly, trying not to wince, peeling at a corner of it. “It already looks better,” she added quietly. 

“ _What is that?_ ” Korra could tell from her mother’s tone she hadn’t mean to be so curt. None the less the idea of telling her formed a solid block in her throat as she rifled through Katara’s bag.

She had already begun wiping the blood away when Asami reached back to squeeze her fingers.

“I thought you were keeping up with the news?” Korra tried not to sound bitter, key word here being _tried_. “Iroh found out about us…he didn’t react well,”

“What-?”

“He shot her,” Asami’s grip tightened, and Korra swept her thumb in an arc over her palm, secretly, silently, telling her she was okay.

“ _Has he been caught_?”

As Korra clenched her jaw and tried to formulate responses past the burgeoning headache, she didn’t expect Asami to speak, let alone the answer she gave.

“Yes,” another squeeze, “just after Korra left, and before I followed, they have him in custody,”

Asami almost expected a scolding, a _you didn’t tell me,_ which had been customary in her previous relationship for not immediately sharing groundbreaking news. Yet Korra carried on with her ministrations, slipping her hand away to rewash before applying salve. She was moved if only by how incredibly safe that silence felt, before Korra sniffled and said.

“That’s good,” and Asami could tell without looking the relief that was on her face now, brows drawn together and eyes closed as she swayed with it, tears forming there was no doubt. 

“I’m divorcing him,” she reached back again, this time interlocking and Korra couldn’t help the wet laugh she gave as the mess of gel and antiseptics squished between their fingers. Swayed by the bravery Korra bowed forward and kissed the back of her head.

“ _Later_ ,” she hushed, prying her fingers back, Asami listened to the now familiar squeak of turning taps, “It’s not going to remain sanitary if you keep doing that,” her voice was at once loaded and light and Asami loved her for it.

“Sorry,” Asami balked, snatching her own hand back smirking, not sorry at all and Korra knew it. She was drying her hands when she caught her mother still standing there, her gaze parrying between them both. 

“Mom it’s okay,” Korra didn’t know what to say, the swirl of emotions her mother was caught in new and utterly terrifying to witness.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Korra insisted, though it was suddenly unbearable to continue looking at her. “Asami saved me I’m fine,”

_“Saved you?_ ” Even Asami flinched at that outburst.

“He was actually aiming for me,” she was already taping down the new bandage, as good as new. Korra turned, folding her arms tight, the only comfort in the moment was Asami’s hand, cooling, on the small of her back. She felt caught, off kilter, both in trouble and well within her right to scream. 

Korra’s bruised cheek throbbed under inspection, the cut on her lip, scabbed over and more irritating than ever. It was then she also remembered Asami’s cheek had a bruise to match, that they were bound in joint scrutiny. Korra reflected on the layers upon layers of chaos she had wrought upon her home. She shouldn’t have come. 

_I can’t do this._

“This wasn’t…” she began not knowing how to end the sentence, “We _couldn’t_ …” 

“ _I adore your daughter Senna_ ,” Asami’s hand was gripping her shirt now, a light tugging sensation that grounded her, “I promised I’d never let anything else happen to her…and I _didn’t_ ,”

“You what?” Korra whispered, turning to catch either of their gazes but they seemed locked in a memory that she wasn’t privy too. If Senna nodded it was imperceptible, but the change was radical, swiping at her tears she released the breath she seemed to be holding. 

“The soup should be cool enough to eat now,” with that Senna was gone, and Korra was left wondering what silent telepathic power her girlfriend over her mother.

She was still reeling from the encounter even after Asami had tugged her sweater back on, until she nudged her way back into her arms and used whatever shivering strength she had to crush herwaist and tuck her head under her chin. 

“What did you promise?” Korra crooned softly, tucking her own arms in place, squeezing, “When?” 

“You know when,” Asami murmured burrowing her ear into the hollow of Korra’s throat, eyes closed, heart open, holding tight the way she did whenever she was reminded that she’d almost lost Korra once before. Senna used to do it too. “you know,” 

“What is happening?” she mouthed, looking helplessly over her shoulder to the older woman at the doorway. 

Katara could only smile back at her. 

“Keep her warm,” she admonished, stepping back, “Get that soup,” 

Korra could only respond by rubbing her cheek atop Asami’s head, lightheaded and off balance after her world shifted several degrees. 

“I adore you too,” she breathed, before they began the reluctant disentangling of limbs to move back into the safety of Korra’s bed **.**

****

When Asami woke that night, the wind was still whistling in the eerie pitch dark outside. Korra lay still on her stomach beside her, arm prone over her hip and toes pressed seamlessly against her own. Even in sleep, determined to keep her warm.

Stiff and aching, Asami rose from the tangle, throwing a cursory look at the strange place in which she found herself. 

It was a room frozen in time; Korra’s stuffed animals perched on shelves, crayon drawings skirting the wallpaper near the ground, drawers still overstuffed with the clothes of a young water tribe child. Korra had been small for her age, Asami could tell from a faded photo, tape turned brown with neglect on the mantle. Nine candles in front of what looked like a seven year old version Korra. Gap toothed, dimpled smile illuminated by birthday-cake candle light.

In the far corner, in the deep dark, stood the stack of boxes from their move back from Republic City way back when. It had all meant to be temporary. Yet here Korra was, visiting home one of a handful of times in the last decade.

Asami remembered hearing about Korra’s childhood here, and quietly marvelled at how it reflected her own. Korra’s boldness was often misunderstood, and her kindness perceived as weakness by her classmates led by her hateful cousins. In the Water Tribe she grew up solitary and peerless. The only role models living a world away on an island, living a bliss she couldn’t conceive of, let alone make for herself in the blight of a frigid land.

She fostered a love of martial arts as an outlet, and Asami was always grateful that she had. The odds of them ever meeting were astronomical; even in the same metropolis. Even smaller were the odds that their intense, bold personalities would meld perfectly to one another into something as unbreakable as it was.

A slice of moonlight lit Korra’s back. Asami looked down at her long, slow breaths rising and falling. A welt of pride filled her as she stroked her fingers in the tangle of chestnut hair, tucking it behind an ear, tracing the spongey lobe, adoring her with touches just because she could. 

She’d discovered more about her best friend at night than she could conceive of ever knowing. How she pouted, and those lips would twitch and brows quirk as though she was giving sass in her dreams. Those sighs with a pique as she repositioned herself. Her twisted features anxious amongst fitful nightmares; only softening at Asami’s fingers on her skin.

This was the most surprising of Asami’s discoveries; that Korra preened under the attention unconscious in a way she never did awake. Korra always keened when teased in this way, as though the emotions rose through her to voice to how happy she felt.

When no sound came; Asami watched her more intently, finding her blue eyes open a sliver, flitting occasionally as she folded through her thoughts like the pages of a devastating book. 

She didn’t stir even as Asami traced her jaw with her fingertips. Lost in the void, Asami could feel pain in her aura as though it were written in braille. 

There was nothing she could say to salve the past few days, but in that moment she remained hopeful.

Her intention set and she followed the simple desire to climb atop her, chest to back and scoop her arms beneath her ribs, tucking her nose into the nape of her neck inhaling.

“Okay, you got me, you found me out,” Korra chuckled voice husky, heartbreakingly hollow.

“You want to talk about it?”

“Didn’t you hear?” Korra twisted from underneath her, sitting up propped against the headboard, as Asami took to kneeling in front of her. “We’re saving all the talking for tomorrow.” the snide comment lost its edge in her sore whisper.

“Then you need to sleep,” Asami crooned, reaching up instinctively to stroke the bridge of Korra’s nose; a soothing trick she knew would push her swiftly into it. She was gentle with the bruises she found there. Korra was so moved she could only close her eyes and absorb the tender care coupled with this unusual stinging.

“You picked this up from my parents?” she accused softly.

“You remember how bad the nights were,” 

“So you all swapped notes on your incompetent ward?” Korra chagrinned.

“Your mom left me a care binder,” Asami scooped her hair behind her ears, suddenly shy as she uncovered a secret of her own for once, “I promised…she knew that you’d need tea in the morning with sugar, _lots of it_ , and I should _not comment, and,_ to keep your sketchbooks where you could reach them so you could work through your pain…the soup I should buy you, the cookies you’d crave when you’re really _-”_

_“All that work for me to turn out like this,”_ Korra seethed, the beginnings of a panic attack crawling over her flesh.

“Korra, honey look at me,” bestowed with that sweet pet name Korra’s lips started shaking, “We’re still here, sleeping in the same bed; they want to _listen_.” Asami framed her face in her palms. “You are loved. They _love_ you.”

Korra heaved a breath, throat tight, uncertainty strangling her. Bowing she pressed her face into Asami’s chest, letting her long fingers card through her hair.

“ _Hypothermia_ ,” Korra breathed, weak. “We’re sharing a bed because you almost froze to death,”

“Totally planned,” Asami deadpanned, pecking her forehead with her lips. “Come on. You’re awake now, let’s go get that tea,” 

She was already tugging earnestly on her fingers, making it clear that _no,_ was not an answer she would accept.

Despite herself Korra felt her lips daring to smirk as she led her through her old house. She watched as Asami muddled as quietly as she could through an unfamiliar territory. She opened and closed cupboards searching in the kitchen, combing every crevice rather than ask Korra where her parents kept the tea. 

She was taking care of her, silently, vigilantly, _stubbornly_ , and it was all Korra could do but to bask in her glow.

The tea pot and cups ready on the counter, and the kettle starting to boil, she turned to wait for it facing Korra, concern lancing through her at the sight of misty eyes and falling tears. 

Korra didn’t wait to explain before clutching her elbows into place and kissing her cheek. Her breath had been taken from her, all that was left was to brace her forehead against Asami’s temple, and feel her fingers cradling her jaw.

When the kettle started to whistle they sprung apart, Korra snapping off the hob and Asami snatching it from the flames. 

She poured into the pot, steam billowing into her cheeks, already flushed and rosy.

Korra sniffled behind her, head still twirling from the high of just kissing _her;_ paranoia settling upon her soul as she spared a glance to the doors and windows. What if her Mother had walked in? Her Father? They’d be in the cold again, with no way home in the blizzard that trapped them here.

“ _Hey_ ,” Asami had gotten closer, fingers slipping through hers as she tugged her to reality, “I love you too,” 

Korra gave her a watery smile and let herself be enveloped. It was then she noticed her hoodie was coming up an inch or so short on Asami, only noticeable from the expanse of skin revealed as she raised her arms, and Korra could brace her warm hands over. 

Her girlfriend seemed to relish the touch.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” Asami whispered, voice low and uneasy, wavering only as Korra’s thumb arced over her navel. 

“I don’t come back here that often so…” Korra gazed down between them, shame swathing over her.

“We’ve never had a sleepover here?” Asami offered.

“You’re not subtle,” 

“I wasn’t trying to be, it’s clear you can’t sleep, so let’s not; you could share what you’re feeling and we could work through it before you have to face them,”

“What’s there to work through? It’s them, it’s _their_ hangups!”

“If you believed that you wouldn’t have kept this from them for so long. You’re Korra, _I’m going to do what I want and you better deal with it_ Korra _-_ what are you afraid of? _”_

_“Losing them forever,”_ Korra snapped.

_“Korra…you don’t only have one shot…_ if tomorrow- we can keep trying-” Asami stammered around the obvious, but tried not to jab Korra with it. Asami hadn’t had a second chance in the same way Korra had. Her parents were gone, their opinions on the matter sealed and void. Even though her mother had supported her, there was still a canyon of possibilities missed due to her untimely death.

Asami thought Korra had every opportunity to make this right; simply because her parents were still alive. 

“I’m sorry I just, I know all this, I’ve thought of it over and over…The only way out is through…let’s just go to bed, deal with this in the morning okay?”

Asami watched her bounce her gaze and scratch the back of her head. She didn’t want to sleep with this hanging over them. She wanted Korra to experience a brief reprieve before the battle, and so blurted the first idea that came to mind.

“ _Or_ we can make a fort? And..I could…give you a makeover?”

Korra let out a burst of laughter, her earnest focus surprised her.

“Right here? Right _now_?” her voice was soft, and the sweetness of the pitch had her swaying just a little. 

“Look - you avoided sleepovers all these years because you were in love with me, _I get it,_ but as your best friend; _I am offended,”_

“I thought Opal was your best friend now?” Korra teased, deflecting.

_“Offended Korra,”_ Asami stepped away from her, retaining her clasp on her fingers, “Remember how I said we could’ve been doing this so much sooner?”

“Wh- _, we’re,_ ” Korra’s cheeks puffed as she stammered, rendered truly speechless. “Okay,” she found herself blanching, head suddenly hot and cold as she thought of what she’d missed out on.

Asami led her to her parents living room, and as she walked Korra knew the surveying glint in her eye. Her fingertips prone on her lips as she thought of the first steps of an ancient ritual.

“Fairy lights? Sheets?” she asked quietly, a conspiratorial smirk on her lips. She sensed Korra’s reticence and assured her with a squeeze. “We’ll take it down before they wake up,”

“There might be some in my room?”

“I’ll go, you light the fire,”

Asami felt excitement fluttering in her chest as she hadn’t in years. It kept her feet light as she darted back up the stairs. She found a knot of lights pouring from one of the Republic City boxes, tangled with other electronics. 

“ _Korra_ ,” she admonished quietly; while it was in character, as an engineer she was appalled at the state of the tech. She yanked at it and whipped sheets from the wardrobe. Untangling them together would be therapeutic, she surmised, and the cassette player that came with it was only a bonus. 

When she returned the fire was roaring and Korra was arranging the tea on the coffee table waiting for her. Heat filled her inside and out at the sight, Asami almost dropped her arms. 

Korra’s face dropped when she saw her.

“Oh,” at the parcel of tangles in her grip, “ _crap_ ,” she reached to help instinctively, “Aha,” Korra smiled, three quarters, clicking a button on the cable, illuminating her captivating eyes. Asami watched them fill with the light, an eclipse edged with cerulean and flecks of gold. 

“Asami?” her heart stammered to hear her name passing through Korra’s lips. Having caught her staring, and her smile grew into its full size. “Take this end,” 

They started turning it together, lengthening an old intricate puzzle they shared in the solving. There was something of a slow, bandy dance to it, hands brushing, to and fro, push and pull, unravel and weave until they stood too far apart. Asami set the cassette player down to hook her end to a light fitting, and Korra did the same opposite her. 

“Here,” Asami gripped her shirt the first chance she got, tugging her into place in the couch beneath it before taking the sheets and throwing them above. She tucked them either side of the couches and table, and re-emerged with all the cushions she could grab. “It’s nothing special but it’ll do,” she sat beside her admiring their work with a deprecating eye.

“Not all of us can hang silk sheets from our chandeliers,” Korra teased, nudging her, catching Asami’s blush and infamous ear-hair tuck, “it’s special to me,” she told her, clasping her hand, “thank you,”

Her lips found her temple, earnest, soft, an undercurrent of fright still making her shoulders tense. 

“Drink,” Asami urged soothingly, “I think there was a tape in that player,” she leaned across her to take it.

“I doubt it even still works,” Korra’s smile continued even as she raised the cup to her lips.

Asami clicked a switch and the tape holder released, the title on the old tape’s spine made her heart stop. She snapped it shut, eyes wide, cheeks howling red. 

“What?” Korra asked.

“ _I’ve found something I shouldn’t have_ ,”

“What? Asami-”

The realisation dawned on Korra slowly, after she’d taken long moments staring back at her and watching Asami’s blush grow down her neck, past sight and was finally amazed to see the tinge of rouge on emerging from her sleeves onto her hands.

“Oh _God_ ,” Korra reached for it and Asami snatched it away.

“ _I want to listen to it!_ ”

“ _Burn it!_ ”

They spoke at the same time, and Asami clutched it to the plush chest of her hoodie, at once precious and reckless, almost throwing herself over the back of the couch to keep it from her.

“I can’t believe you made me a mix tape,” her eyes were wells of emerald and tears and Korra melted.

“Well,” Korra breathed, unclenching the fist that held her heart private one finger at a time, “check the song list, let me know how embarrassed I should be,” 

Asami launched herself into her lap and clutched her tight in thanks. 

“Your shoulder!” Korra warned, promptly ignored as Asami sat back, blinking through tears, grinning madly as she snapped the tape out again. Reading Korra’s writing as she fit the titles on the plastic between the moulded shapes of the cassette. 

“How old were you when you made this?” 

“Fifteen,” Korra’s voice was thick, looking down on the written _Asami_ in heart parenthesis on the spine.

1 - Free Your Mind - En Vogue

2 - Don’t Let Go (Love) - En Vogue

3 - Iris - Goo Goo Dolls

4 - When It Hurts So Bad - Ms Lauryn Hill

5 - Weakness in Me - Joan Armstrong

6 - Kiss Me - Sixpence None the Richer

7 - Sea of Love - Cat Power

“It’s a bit of a mixed message,” Asami teased only it came out as a sob. Korra sniffled to match, face turned up to slow the tears as they fell, remembering how it felt to be hopelessly in love with her best friend, and how alone she felt in it. In a moment of bravery she’d made the tape, yet found her fingers too weak to release it and put it in a birthday card for Asami. She wanted to tell her so many times; something always got in the way. In this case; Yasuko’s death.

“Little Korra had a thing for Neo Soul,” she whimpered, “I could never say the words so I tried to explain…” she fought a battle with her own tightening throat, “ _I loved you so much,”_ aside from telling her she was in love with her, Asami hadn’t known the length and breadth of those feelings until she’d uttered those strained words, “and it hurt sometimes, and even if you couldn’t love me back…” she trailed off. Attempting now what had been impossible then, “I hoped you could be open to it,”

Her temple pulsed as she clenched her jaw, locked in the memory. Korra took the tape from her, and slipped it in the mouth of the player once again. 

Inexplicable fondness flooded through her in the final moments before they both reached and hit play.

_“FREE YOUR MIND”_

She flinched and lowered the volume, smiling, crying. Asami laughed with her, swiping her tears with her thumbs, cupping her cheeks.

“You know what we get to do now that we couldn’t before?” 

_“Wh-“_

_“Make out listening to your mixtape,”_

Asami sprung forward without hesitation, and kissed Korra, as reflexive as breathing. Finally in the private cocoon they’ve made, Korra felt sweet physical relief to be able to sink into her and intertwine their arms tight. Korra lost herself in it, her lips drifting to her cheek, her jaw, tasting tears suckling on her skin and absorbing the litany of gasps she gave with each and every kiss.

With each song, Korra had gotten braver with her choices, and the memories of that bittersweet infatuation lit up her chest like a beacon in the night. Korra remembered study sessions listening to her cassettes while they worked side by side; stolen moments watching her friend to see if the beats of the songs matched the ire of her pulse. 

_What's it gonna be 'cause I can't pretend?_

_Don't you wanna be more than friends?_

_Hold me tight and don’t let go._

Those lyrics were clearer than any how Korra had felt about their time together, and Asami wordlessly made a point to join their mouths and slip her hands beneath her ribs to hold her flush, ignoring the burn of her shoulder and losing it to the intensity of the moment. Legs twining with hers beneath. Following the instructions diligently and without protest. 

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_'Cause I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

Each song provoked a different style of touch that all revolve around a single minded purpose; repairing what had been lost between them. Korra had been holding her breath all this time, and it was clear to Asami just how long she’d been dying to tell her the truth. Of course she hadn’t, and she was positively kicking herself for it. Still, the frightened lovesick girl she’d once been was reconciling with the woman who held her love in her arms, every ugly honest feeling laid bare. Accepted.

_When it hurts so bad_

_Why's it feel so good?_

When the music turns soulful, reflective of Korra’s sorrow, Asami’s kisses are gentler and apologetic. Her lips spongey, her hands wavering between bone-tight grip and soothing strokes under her clothes. 

They’re aware of potential imminent exposure, so they toe the line instead of crossing it. Not embracing such a time however feels like a crime in and of itself. Lost to the music, mouths hungry and insistent and at times, _biting._ Legs woven together like ribbons, careful not to grind too hard or too provocatively to a place of no return. Pillow forts have thin walls after all.

_You make me stare, when I should not_

_Are you so strong or is all the weakness in me?_

Asami reacted as though Korra had whispered the lyrics into her ear herself, the pain and guilt reflective of their first kiss, their first time, resistance worn to nothing until the gap closed between them. It awoke a greediness that she’d never experienced before Korra, fingers braced above the hem of Korra’s pyjama pants, fingers tracing the tremor of her lower abdomen while her thigh pressed firmly now in the apex of Korra's. 

She pried back, and Korra thinks for a moment it’s to apologise for going too far, until she lingers above her. Emeralds eclipsed by dark pupils, tears now wicked away, replaced by her fierce gaze, probing and determined. The burn of arousal almost distracting enough to erase her decorum, almost, but not quite. 

She knows this is as vulnerable as Korra will ever be, her skipping heart detectable on the surface of her skin, even under her breath breaking like waves in a tempest. 

Her fingertips press teasingly into Korra’s tensing abs; a question. Korra’s eyes drop to her lips; permission.

The line they were toeing is crossed with a hand turning out of sight. Asami finds her clit already hard and slippery. Her fingers circle the nub with building pressure, and when Korra gasps she’s sure to capture the sound before it can escape the tent. Korra’s hand cups her ear and curls into the nape of her neck, keeping their mouths fused, for safety, for pleasure. Her nimble hand never wavering even as Korra’s hips begin to flutter beneath her, and her legs cross over the small of her back, tucking her infinitely closer. 

Asami finds it amazing still how strong a desire she has to stroke her digits lovingly over the silken wetness of Korra’s entrance. To learn every ridge and valley as she opens for her, to map every nerve that has her jerk and twitch and whine with pleasure. Her shoulder ached with that piercing pain, but in the moment it sharpened her resolve, sinking two fingers inside, curling, listening to that piqued sigh, slowly cantering her hips between Korra’s thighs, pressing her hand deeper inside, gentle, hard. 

It’s savouring and careful, yet Asami lets her lips free to taste that sweetness percolating on her throat. Korra covering her mouth with her hand to keep from crying out as her tongue and jaw suckled against her. 

She knows from the clenching of her inner walls she’s close, she knows it from her body spasming and shaking beneath her, she knows it in her own, reacting instinctively, pressing her lips to her ear and telling her for the hundredth time;

“ _I love you_ ,”

That was all it took; a combination of the words, the act and those lips, still cool, dancing over the shell of her ear.

Korra’s orgasm hit her like a freight train. Turning her face to nuzzle into Asami’s hair as she chased it as long as it would come, each crashing unexpectedly into the next, with such force she would later be grateful that it left her incapable of any and all sounds.

Her thighs are still shaking around Asami’s hips as she rears back to watch her, the last hitch, lingering in the moment before, admiring the shape of her tensing shoulders as every muscle thrums with it, the divot of her exquisite collarbones that Asami is reticent to lick, if only to keep watching her fall into oblivion from the tips of her fingers. Finally Korra rolls her hips for the last time, those curved fingers filling her and it has her back arching sharply, biting hard on her kiss-swollen lip, trembling and boneless, her only focus being on keeping her hands tucked under Asami’s clothes. 

Her body falls relaxed and plaint into the couch not long after, eyes closed, grip loose, smile growing slowly but surely across her lips. 

Bit by bit those exquisite blues opened a sliver.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” there’s hardly a breath of time before she captures Asami’s mouth in another fierce kiss. 

“Did you know that song is about an affair?” Asami questioned when they parted.

“I identified more with the guilt of loving someone I shouldn’t…I didn’t mean to…I wasn’t-”

“Setting yourself up for it?” Asami teased. Before Korra can give a rebuttal her capacity to think is dialled down to zero, at the sensation of her girlfriends fingers slipping out of her, and sight of her bringing them to her pert lips and sucking her slickness away.

They’re together, admiring each other in silence, until -

_Kiss me, out of the bearded barley…_

Asami peal of laughter has her laughing too. Blushing at the old familiar pop song that followed, as Asami traces her lips over Korra’s jaw.Nipping at her sweet flavour and adoring how saccrine she’d been back then. 

“It happened the way it happened,” she whispered, kissing her pulse to punctuate her point, “and now we’re here,”

Korra could only grin helplessly, her weight sinking past her limbs and planting her firmly into that sofa. Asami made a point to sway and turn them, singing softly along to the words she’d memorised as a teenager. Perhaps she’d made Korra suffer enough back then, but now watching her smile and giggle beneath her as the honeyed voice quietly instructed _kiss me,_ over and over, and she obliged.

Gleeful tears found her way back to her again. 

The last songs are joyful, hopeful, and it only makes Asami weep harder, and Korra can’t keep it together either. They’re locked in an echo chamber of emotions, content to trace her lips over Korra’s just breathing her in as she listened to her former self lay her heart at their feet. 

_Do you remember_

_When we met?_

_That's the day_

_I knew you were my pet_

_I wanna tell you_

_How much_

_I love you_

Long after the songs had ended, the night culminated in trading tender kisses reclined across the couch. Somewhere between making out like teenagers, and making up for lost time, they forgot about the promise they’d made before making the fort, folding limbs together instinctively and eyes falling shut in a dreamless and deep sleep.

They’d turned to relieve Asami’s shoulder of her prop, and now Korra’s ear found home over Asami’s stomach. Her slender fingers woven fondly through her hair, Korra’s nimble hips balanced between her thighs.

*****

The sun is rising when Tonraq has to dig his way to his front door. Upon reaching the porch his boots snag a block of ice, lighter in weight and darker in colour than all the other’s he’d seen today. 

The blizzard had a habit of freezing anything and everything not nailed down or gifted with internal heating. Several cars were in this state, some boats, and a few unfortunate stray pets. He’d made it something of a mission to see that the townspeople had everything they needed for the coming storm. It was a welcome distraction from the very public family drama that his daughter had caused. His daughter whom he missed dearly, although her actions seemed incomprehensible to him. He'd fielded questions and accusations with a simple ' _No Comment'_ and went on about his day as normal. He wasn't ready to have an opinion on it yet. 

He needed sleep. He needed Senna. 

“Odd,” he hums to himself, toeing the block into porch light. Grabbing at it, unexpectedly the piece he takes extends an arms-length, before snapping off entirely. 

_A. Sato,_ reads the tag tied around the handle. He takes a moment to chip at the block, and an expensive, if incredibly damaged, suitcase reveals itself beneath the frost. 

The Mayor unlocked his door and kicked the brick inside. Slamming the door against the howl of the wind and the burgeoning snow. 

The case splits when it hits the base of the stairs, falling open like a cracked egg. He spies the papers and books, and takes a modicum of care to remove them. Two things enter his periphery that he would never have guessed before the previous morning. 

_The Sato Affair_ emblazoned on a Republic City newspaper, his daughter embracing a married heiress-socialite romantically on the cover, and the second, Korra draped over Asami in a pillow fort in his living room. He was sure he’d have noticed such a structure before if he weren’t so exhausted.

The sounds of his thumping footsteps had them flinching, but not waking. Instead they curled into each other like cats, in a cacophony of sighs and grumbles as they repositioned themselves more comfortably. He watched as Asami stroked the bridge of Korra’s nose, and soothed her back into slumber, apparently deep in sleep herself.

The look on her face was unfamiliar, yet unmistakeable. His daughter was smiling.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Antibellum - Vienna Tang
> 
> Check out my tumblr for more info on fics and potential art (info in bio) and mostly gay nonesense posts 
> 
> https://hellorhogwartsfics.tumblr.com/


	19. Us - Regina Spektor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Us - Regina Spektor  
> The Queer Gospel - Erin McKeown

Asami was aware of her mistake moments before waking fully. She vaguely recalled a promise she’d broken with the best of intentions. Eye’s closed, her brain switched on; cylinder by cylinder, pistons spurring gently as she made the connection to what exactly had gone wrong. It didn’t marry with just how right she felt, reclined on a couch with her girlfriend between her legs. The weight of her sleeping head perfectly balanced over her sternum.

As she pondered her woven fingers shifted in Korra’s hair; tracing the tendons at the nape of her neck, spongey under her delicate touch. She found it difficult to weigh the potential consequences when the act was so exquisite. For all Korra’s sharp and renitent edges, it warmed the cockles of her recently defrosted heart that only Asami knew of the soft secret places.

Half her mind was recalling the dream she’d been having. It was cold, she remembered, and despite the evening she’d had she was quite fond of the feeling. Being cold meant Korra would come to warm her soon; in this scenario doubly so. Balanced on blades over thin ice, she’d dreamt of Korra leading her through the motions, skimming the surface, ignoring the cracks as they formed; gliding. They had a wobbly start but soon they were skating smoothly, hand in hand. Something prompted the Korra she dreamed to show-boat, rounding on her, leading her backwards without breaking her stride. Grin wide and unyielding.

All this she could recall; yet her brain couldn’t conjure what was amiss.

In the meantime she tucked icy toes under Korra’s calf and dutifully, while still unconscious, Korra manoeuvred her legs to squeeze them warm. Her upper body readjusted around her, huffing a slow, long, _relaxed_ breath as her arms, no doubt numb beneath Asami’s spine, flexed and shifted. Asami could only smile at that, and surmise the best course of action was simply to fall back to sleep.

Until a waft of fragrant steam passed over her face.

Their tea had gone cold and forgotten, hours ago, there was no doubt.

Asami’s brain calculated the scenario with all the computing power she could muster. It punched out a simple answer with an almighty _kerplunk_.

_We are no longer alone._

She flinched and shifted. Kicking up incrementally, her socks skimming helplessly on the fabric of the couch failing to find purchase. She yanked her eyes open, heavy lidded and sleep dusted. Nerves swathing over her in an uncomfortable hot flash, caught by the woman watching them from the armchair opposite. The only saving grace of the moment was that Korra didn’t seem to notice; content to burrow and twist into her body for warmth and comfort, blissfully unaware. The one thought Asami could manage to string together was how her girlfriend needed that bliss.

Senna gazed at her daughter in Asami’s arms, visage oddly calm as she cradled her tea between both hands.

“ _Senna_ , G’Morning,” Asami tried her best at a greeting, alas her lips were faring no better than her eyes. In the awkward silence that followed, she saw the bedsheet that had been draped over fairy lights now neatly folded on the arm of Senna’s chair. The lights themselves however were still up, still shining. The cassette player sat idle on the coffee table between them. Having spat the tape aloft at the end of the mix for all the world to see its spine; _Asami_ written in heart parenthesis. If Asami could she would have kicked herself. However exposed they now were nothing was more telling than that tape. Korra’s secrets were hers now, and she wanted to keep them well.

“Good morning,” Senna smiled at her, an expression that did not reach her eyes. Instead a melancholy stared out at her that Asami had seen far too often. She tugged on her teabag, lifting and dipping it without any real force. It served as nothing more than something to do with her hands.

“I’m sorry we didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, don’t get up,”

Korra didn’t seem to stir even as voices, however soft, began to disturb the air.

Asami sensed that now was a time when ordinarily Senna would have reached across and smoothed Korra’s hair over her ear as she had in the past, yet something stopped her. Perhaps Asami’s hands were in the way, but with the loaded silence, it seemed more to do with what Senna was building up to say.

“Korra was born prematurely, in other words…she was born _fighting_.” She began, bizarrely, and Asami had to steel her pounding heart to listen. “Her first day on this earth her little hands were curled into fists just clinging on to what she wanted and - I don’t believe she ever stopped. Her strength always demanded challenge. There were so many in those early years - yet every time, she balled up those fists and got to work.”

Asami watched a smile tug at Senna’s lips despite herself.

“Somewhere along the line we moved to the city and she met you,”

The clatter of teaspoon scraping against china was jarring then, for Korra’s sake Asami tried her best not to flinch. She scritched at Korra’s scalp absently and felt her arms tighten about her waist in response. She couldn’t tell if she had awoken, but she couldn’t bring herself to tear her gaze away from Senna.

Senna bounced her eyes and stilled her hands.

“When she had her accident it was the answer to all my fears. Her luck had run out and I was powerless in the face of it. When I walked into that room and her hands were flat on that bed and I started to _grieve_. Somehow… your friendship was a major part of getting her through, and I was so shocked to find that it wasn’t about fighting at all. She was following you like it was the only thing she knew how to do.”

Asami tried to stay present, but in the moment she heard the shrill sharp bells of her telephone, and the nurse on the other end telling her her friend had just woken up from a coma.

Asami came running through that ward door, finding Korra’s face more bandaged and battered than she had ever seen after ten years of competitive fighting. Korra couldn’t remember her own name, but the accident made no difference to the one person she wanted above all others.

“Competing the pair of you had that same wild intensity, but when tested you became _tempered_ and _enviable._ ” Senna let something slip on that last word. Voice audibly shaken.

Asami recalled the reluctance in Senna’s aura as she lingered on Korra’s doorway for the final time. Her old apartment, a veritable shoebox stuffed with Korra’s friends way back when. Mako and Bolin stressing over assembling a bed in an open plan living room. Korra limping from counter to counter making teas in an attempt to look useful and functioning; a facade in competence her mother saw right through at the time.

Even Asami had to admit how young they all were, shouldering a burden too big to really grasp between the three of them. Still, whatever fight Korra had left was aimed at digging in her heels and re-starting her life here. For the months since she’d been conscious it had been a point of contention for her parents, and Asami had mediated on behalf of Korra’s best interest. Korra needed to heal, to grow, and she’d insisted she needed to do it alone. No one could deny her what she wanted after what happened. Asami herself respected her wishes to the point where she never questioned how absurd it was to stay in the city without her family.

_“I won’t let anything else happen to her.”_ Asami had assured her under her breath, pressing the older woman’s arm, _“I promise,”_

Senna had reached for her without looking away from her daughter, and in the moment clasped her hand that Asami caught. Squeezing back, deal struck.

“At every turn you bolstered her best qualities; calmed her, focussed her. I didn’t understand it but I respected that you gave her peace with _just your presence_ …When I heard you were engaged the first thought I had was what would my daughter be losing? Would the man you’d chosen replace that fierce connection in your lives?”

Why should she stay in a place she never really considered home? Why did Senna let her?

The answer whispered itself in the silence.

_Korra stayed in Republic City for me._

Senna looked up at the twinkling lights, fighting the sting of tears. “Where we come from - two women - it’s the last thing we think of even when they hold hands.” Her eyes fell to Asami’s now, with all the light and warmth she’d captured from above, “It should have been clear that it was you,”

It took too long for Asami to realise this was an apology, before Senna clasped her hand on Korra’s hair.

“I see her now balling her fists, ready to fight the world,” Senna stood up, stepping back, taking the cups from the coffee table and turning slightly, “I hope you realise how important that makes you.”

“I do,” Asami whispered helplessly, combing Korra’s hair to rights over her ear.

Blue eyes flickered when a tear fell upon her cheek. Korra let out a soft wakeful sigh, shoulders twitching, telling Asami that for once she’d been relaxed enough to partake in genuine sleep.

Frowning and pouting, turning her face into Asami’s stomach the world returned to her.

“What?” she breathed, faced turned up now, spying tears in streaks over Asami’s cheeks. “What happened?”

“ _Your mom,_ ” Asami sniffled.

Korra reared back, discombobulated yet stirred enough to begin formulating a fallout plan.

“What did she say?”

“She knows,”

“So does everybody I don’t-?”

“No Korra - _She sees us_ ,” Asami braced her hands beneath her jaw, holding her steady as she swayed, using the momentum to tug her cheek to the path of her lips.

“I don’t understand,” Korra murmured, burying her face into her neck, “my arms are so numb,”

Asami let out a guffaw that was unbecoming of an heiress, yet Korra found it enchanting as she held on. Asami’s mirth was infectious if a little confusing, and her embrace, while lopsided, was tight and reassuring. Swaying her gently from side to side.

Korra had an inkling of what she meant, yet the controlling stake of her personality hadn’t the capacity for positive possibilities when it came to this.

“The lights,” she lamented, “You promised we’d take them down before bed,”

“We haven’t gone to bed yet,” Asami chided gently, smoothing down the tangles at the base of Korra’s head.

“There’s still time,” Korra responded, peeling away, guiding her to her feet fingers interlocking. Gliding backwards, braving a sly hopeful smile.

****

When Korra woke the second time her face was planted in her hoodie once again, that Asami had been wearing, loose and folded for her sloth-like tendencies could cling to. They’d migrated to Korra’s bed to catch a few more hours of sleep. When Korra woke, she was surprised to find she was alone, even more so the scent of her favourite meal floating from downstairs. 

She sat on her bed for a good five minutes, wondering if this was the part of dying wherein her life flashed before her eyes. Only the stillness persuaded her otherwise. That and Asami’s blouse soaked and drying on the radiator at the foot of her bed. Korra blinked at it, one eye at a time, waking mind struggling the recall how such fine silk made its way in from the impossible cold.

A clang rang out from the kitchen below, as did Asami’s subsequent culinary cursing.

“Shi- _shoot_ ,” She censored herself, “ _bother_ ,” Senna was close.

Korra felt a surge of intangible pride knowing Asami was down there, braving her mother alone, doing her best to impress her. Although, cooking was an odd choice of card to play for someone who had taken twenty-five years to master pancakes. She took quiet tentative steps, it had been an age since she’d followed this path, expecting family making magic in the kitchen. It felt too good to be true to be she stood upon that threshold. Katara stirring a pot upon the stove with an appraising smirk, as Asami scrambled to replace the waterfall of pots she’d knocked loose from a cupboard.

“Honestly, Asami it’s fine,” Senna assured her before sensing a familiar gaze, catching Korra’s over her shoulder as she worked. Korra studied her expression over her shoulder, trying to glean how she felt. “Look who’s awake,”

Asami stood to her full height a little too fast, it had her on a teeter. She had her own clothes on now, comfy sweater and jeans, comfortable and casual with a hint of makeup. Korra wondered for perhaps a moment if she should miss seeing her mussed and clean faced, private just for her, but she knew then she could get her both ways and all those between.

“Korra, _hey_ ,” she seemed just as relieved to see her, as Korra was herself. Scooping her already tied up hair behind her ears, blushing hotly. Seeing her so flustered would ordinarily be a bad sign, but she was smiling, however shy. Korra’s heart and mind skipped as she crossed the room and clumsily kissed her cheek, accidentally-on-purpose pressing her lips to the corner of her mouth.

Korra stiffened. A cacophony of a thousand ingrained fears turning her veins to stone at the bold move. There was nothing wrong with it, intellectually she knew that, and there seemed to be no reaction from the others in the room. Her breath however froze, trapped in her chest.

“How’d you sleep?” Asami asked, hand warming her wrist through the flash freezing she’d undergone, her thumb painting arcs over the down raised there. A rush of doubt crossed her girlfriend’s face, and Korra melted.

“Fine,” Korra whispered, “but it got lonely after you left,” languishing the spark that came with Asami’s eyebrows raising at shameless flirting. “You found your clothes in all that snow?”

Asami cleared her throat, stepping back, thumb absently smearing the lipstick kiss still on her cheek.

“Your father found them in an ice block on the porch.”

“Dad’s home?”

“He’s been in his study all morning.” There was something in the downturn of Asami’s lips that told Korra he hadn’t been to speak with them in the same way Senna had. The implication sat heavy in the air. Korra’s sexuality had always loomed above her, insurmountable. A peak she’d never been able to see the top of, nor imagine what conquering it even looked like. Now she realised with Asami beside her; it didn’t matter, because of the hand in hers; guiding each other over the rocky terrain.

“What’s left to do here?” even with that in mind it was hard to keep the shake from her voice.

“Nothing,” Asami huffed, “Stir stew and serve,” she grinned, turning back into the kitchen where her teachers looked on appraisingly. “Sea prune stew your favourite,”

“You’re forgetting a crucial part,” Senna chided, sealing the bubbling brew under a lid. “Washing up,” she began ushering Katara from the kitchen with promises of tea and introspection to the living room.

Korra sighed and resigned herself to scrubbing the nearest pan. When she was done with one, she set it aside, promptly picked up by Asami to dry. Asami caught the second, fingers overlapping.

“You cooked you shouldn’t-“

“I want to,” Asami side stepped closer, “I’m sorry if I crossed a line earlier, I just I was overwhelmed seeing you and looking so-”

“You didn’t,” Korra assured, “We’re out in the open now, one of the benefits being we can _be open._ ”

“Still, I’m here to support you, not-”

“You’re doing that already,” Korra threw her eyes around the room to punctuate her point. “The stew, my _mom_ , already? What - did you bribe her?”

“Your mom came to me with her own conclusions,” Asami shook her head, “She’d obviously been thinking on them for a while,”

“And?”

“I think she’s coming around,”

“How?” Korra’s question fell out of her, a relieved disbelieving gasp.

“Maybe…She saw me holding you, and you holding on to me, maybe that was all it took,”

“What do we do about my dad? You think he saw us too?”

Asami chewed her lip, moved to her core that Korra was not only attempting this, but including her in the conversation. They were partners in this, and it was everything she’d always wanted. That and the flicker of hope burning in Korra’s eyes. She was desperate to fan those flames.

“Do you think bribery would work on him? I’ll do it,”

“Politicians don’t accept bribes only donations.” Korra chagrinned with a splash. “He’s old school, honour code etcetera,”

“Ah so you’re saying I should fight him for your hand,”

“You think you’re ready to take on the _North_ _Bear_ after almost freezing to death?”

“If anything that should show how serious I am; that I would run into any storm to find you,” Asami’s flippant tirade became earnest at the end. “I had to know you were okay after everything in the papers,”

“What _did_ happen in that cab?” Korra questioned softly, turning to watch her lips purse and cheeks flush.

“It was nothing really, the driver was just being an ass,”

“So you didn’t even finish the trip? Without your case?”

Asami fell into silence.

“Tell me,” Korra pressed, voice still gentle.

“He mentioned there was drama in the mayoral household, offhandedly… that the mayor had a f _ag daughter_ ,”

The notion that Asami had been assaulted with this kind of hate hurt Korra’s chest. She had a worry that enough hatred hurled her way would eventually wear her down to the point that loving Korra was no longer worth it.

“What did you say?”

“I might have torn into him,” she had the grace to grimace a little, but in truth held no remorse for her tirade gifted to a stupid old man.

“Asami-”

“I said that I was marrying the _Mayors Fag Daughter,_ that we’d have a big turkey-baster gay wedding at the Glacier Spirits Festival and amazing sex for the rest of our lives.” Asami spoke so quickly it was difficult to follow, both apologetic and desperate to make the wounded expression on Korra’s face go away, “I might have laid it on thick just to get a reaction and I think I broke him and I didn’t want to stay in his lousy cab anyway so I walked, I mean how far could two miles be right?” The expression had faded into something more neutral. “Oh God, did I just make this a thousand times worse?”

“No,” Korra’s lips finally broke out into that perfect half-grin, “Glacier Spirits Festival huh? Should I make a note?” she teased.

“ _Korra_ ,” Asami squirmed and blushed.

Korra snickered, and let her head fall sideways, braced on Asami’s shoulder.

“What are you so happy about?” Asami accused, catching her still smiling in the window’s reflection, reaching to take the next plate from Korra’s hand in the sink.

“I get to keep you,”

In the moments after the dish fell away, and their fingers became entangled secretly under the suds.

“You met with Iroh?” Korra pressed her thumb over Asami’s gently, soothing the knuckles broaching the subject gentle and calm. Asami had to take a moment to feel just how safe that feeling was.

“He would only speak to me after they caught him.”

“Are you okay?” not _what happened?_ Not _what were you thinking?_

_“I don’t know,”_ Asami laughed, “He was cruel and then he was _calm_ and god I didn’t realise how much I didn’t know him…or myself.” she had to stop herself from apologising for the thousandth time, they were beyond that, “I told him everything…I even corrected the papers he had…he’d read my mothers diary and pieced together our history. I threatened him. I served him divorce papers,”

“You threatened him?”

“ _He aimed a gun at you_.” Asami reminded. “and when I emerged I realised the real reason you came here, _alone, to do the hardest thing-”_

“I’m _sorry I-_ ,”

“Don’t be, Korra _I’m so proud of you_ ,” Asami cupped her cheek.

Korra’s expression crumbled as she wrestled with overwhelming emotion. It was as though the coil binding her chest all these years had been cut away with those few words.

_“I’m so glad you’re here,”_ she spoke the words cheek pressed into Asami’s shoulder, arms braced secure about her ribs. Left hand dripping into cashmere, Asami’s right smearing suds on the back of her t-shirt.

“You should go wash up, get dressed,” Asami whispered after a time, “lunch will be ready soon,”

Korra peeled away, swiping at watery eyes feeling very much that she was wandering around an elaborate, exquisite dream half dreamt. She tried not to think about what it would take to wake her up.

****

Asami lingered before Tonraq’s closed door. Her request was a simple one - _come downstairs for lunch_ , but at that moment she pondered using it as a veil to enquire how he felt about his daughter. If what he had to say could wound her, if it would leave scars.

She couldn’t help it, she felt responsible. If things were different they could have handled it years ago, if things were different, they’d _only_ be discussing her sexuality, not the ethics of having an affair with your long time best friend.

She put her hand on the cool wood, before rapping softly three times.

“Come in,”

She pushed the door, braving a step into the Mayor’s sanctuary.

“To what do I owe?” Tonraq enquired without looking up from his notes. Asami noted he omitted _the pleasure_.

“Lunch is almost ready, sea prune stew,”

Tonraq didn’t comment right away. Turning a page, mulling.

“Korra’s favourite,”

“And yours,” Asami said.

“She’s always had good taste,” Tonraq’s tone was unreadable as he closed his notebook with an air of finality and turned to face her.

Now was the time, Asami knew, but her eyes caught the arced pages of a book fluttering slightly, spine open on the radiator beneath the window.

“Mom’s diary,” she whispered.

“Should be dry now,” Tonraq scooted on his chair to pluck it up, and scooted back to present it to her. “Your case fell apart and this was soaked, I didn’t know it was Yasuko’s,”

“Why would you?” Asami muttered, a little lost, holding the cover to her chest.

“What would she think of all of this?” it wasn’t accusatory, or an insult, it simply caught her off guard.

“She loved Korra, she liked her for me,” she could sense Tonraq watching her, but instead of giving back, she opened the book and started absently flipping through, “she knew what we were to each other even all those years ago…before I did,”

She didn’t know what she was looking for until she found it, and wasted no time in turning the book so Tonraq could read.

“First paragraph.” she directed.

_…It can’t be denied, Asami fawns over Korra like no other…I hope for the sake of her father I’m wrong, but I would say that this is my little girl’s first crush._

“My marriage was a mistake, Tonraq, but the affair wasn’t,” Asami told him, chin and shoulders square. “You can’t be mad at her for this. She’s been so afraid of losing you both.” she twisted her fingers anxiously, “ _She always has_ , and I can’t be the reason-” her throat closed up now, her own fear rising to the fore. One way or the other, she’d lost her parents, a hurt she wished on no-one, not even her worst enemy.

This wasn’t going how she’d hoped, she was no clearer on how Tonraq felt now than before. Asami twisted her fingers, anxiety riling, she was a CEO, a titan of industry. Although in front of her friend’s father she felt as small as when she first met him, a twelve year old, “don’t be mad at Korra,” apparently she argued like one too. “Lunch is in five,” Book to breast she turned on her heel and made her retreat downstairs.

Korra was setting the table when she saw her, hair still wet but dry enough not to drip. When Asami saw her smile she knew it was forced. Strained under the weight of a ticking clock. She knew from the shake in her hands setting silverware that she was scared. She knew how grateful she was she was here in the way she turned her cheek into her palm as Asami cradled her ear.

“Yasuko’s diary?” Asami could only nod in response, placing it on a shelf of knick snacks nearby with nowhere else to put it. “She made it all this way,” despite it all there was a smile in her honeyed voice.

Asami couldn’t help but follow the sound and press her lips to Korra’s temple while she could. Heavy footsteps had her retreating, she hated that Korra’s face was marred by the sting of understanding. She was trying to be tactful, but she was balancing on a tight rope, and ambiguity surrounding Korra’s parents had her guessing the direction she was facing.

Seated at the table she claimed her hand beneath the surface. This she could do, support her, and it was simple as holding on.

Tonraq claimed his chair opposite with a scrape, Senna beside him, Katara was already ladling stew into bowls from the head of the table.

It occurred to Korra that it might be a while before they all had an opportunity to be trapped like this, playing nice in their little snow globe, pretending nothing was wrong one last time before the next big shake. She could feel the tense static that had been her background music swelling in volume, bursting at the seams. She was sure with any of the resounding clinks and slurps the balloon would pop and create a sonic boom. It was a bomb she’d always dreaded, and it had never been closer. With every visit and phone call she carried its weight in her soul. She felt it now beneath her sternum, with every squeeze of Asami’s fingers it felt lighter by a breath.

For now she could pretend a little while longer, give everyone a chance to digest a little more.

“Asami met Kya,” Korra blurted spoon aloft, trying to cover the ticking with the sound of her own voice and just _anyone else’s._

“My Kya?”

“ _Mmhmm_ ,” Korra nodded, chewing down on a delicious prune, gifted with the tang of something new, something Asami had added, and her mother had let her.

“You know her?” Asami asked.

“She’s my daughter,” Katara said, “what were you doing on Ember Island?”

“Ah,” Korra balked at her mistake. On second thought it wasn’t the best segue.

“I was…I was on my honeymoon, with Iroh, before…” Asami’s hand was now a vice interlocked with hers, instantly the air changed, tension imbuing them like a gas leak.

“Before you cheated on him,” Tonraq finished.

Before Korra could defend her partner, Asami piped up.

“I told you the affair wasn’t a mistake, it fixed the mistake,”

“Asami-”

“No you have questions, ask them, now is the time.” Asami had thrown down her gauntlet. Tonraq gazed at her, neutral and studious, before parting his lips to pick it up.

“How long has this been going on?” Tonraq’s voice was even, his eyes sharp and astute. Asami wavered, not because she didn’t know the truth, but from an outside perspective the truth was difficult to believe.

“I’ve always loved her dad,”

“And you? A man one minute, Korra the next?”

“I didn’t know how I felt, I didn’t know that she…” Asami lost her place, she felt so foolish, she wanted to defend Korra, throwing her body in front of a bullet was so much easier than this. Until a thumb under the table brushed against her knuckle and suddenly she was centred.

“I’d always been the dutiful daughter; I followed the rules and the future handed down by my father, you know what kind of a man he was - and it killed me inside…getting married, seeing that old house, fixing it up, it opened me up to everything I’d been avoiding, my feelings for her, _my past and_ it made me take a closer look at how Korra was acting around me. How she kept her secrets. How she treated me. How she held back even when we were fighting.”

Asami found herself gazing into the empty space remembering, letting those recollections warm her and guide her through.

“How did you react when you found out how she felt about you?” Tonraq pressed, studying her.

Asami’s searing jade eyes snapped to his. The pain she’d been swimming in draining just enough so she could soften at the memory.

“I kissed her.”

Tonraq laced his fingers together, elbows balanced on the arms of his chair and leaned back. Stoic.

“That was about a month ago,” Korra spoke, loud enough to be heard, quiet enough so she didn’t provoke him.

“You think you’re stable after a month?”

“We are,” Korra squeezed Asami’s fingers under the table, their new rings digging into the fleshy parts between digits, “We didn’t want you to find out this way. We’re barely starting, but this is _real_ ,”

“What if she leaves you out in the cold?”

“If she’s out alone in the cold, it wouldn’t be because I left her there,” Asami surmised, unable to reel herself in after his jab. “She should be able to be herself without me, and feel loved and safe but _it’s this place,”_ Korra looked back at her, in awe of her as Asami swiped tears from her cheek with her wrist, words tumbling easily from her scarlet lips. “All this time she’s been out there alone, _holding her breath_ , waiting for someone to accept her - and we missed it.”

In those last words, she let loose all the guilt and anger she’d held, at herself just as much as Korra’s parents.

“How could you keep this from us?” he asked, tone just as solemn.

“How could I not?” Asami could tell she was struggling to speak now, and did her best to return the gesture she had given her moments ago. Thumb tracing every dip between her knuckles, pressing gently on the spongey tendons between the bones, “The same reason Kya doesn’t live here. The same reason who I’m with is town gossip, and front page news. The same reason mom called, and couldn’t bring herself to listen to what I had to say.”

There was an almost silent sound that came from Senna then, her voice tight an utter aimed into the table cloth, and then again as she rose her chin to look her daughter in the eye.

“I’m sorry…it’s just unexpected. All these years you’ve kept yourself at a distance we would never guess,” she gestured to the pair of them, “Until it’s all over the papers, and your father and I…we were ambushed,”

“I think I know a little something about ambushes,” Korra whispered to no-one in particular.

“You’re happy with this path you’ve chosen?” Tonraq asked, “With all this difficulty and chaos?”

As the room held its breath she took a chance, and manoeuvred their entangled hands on top of the table.

“With respect, Tonraq, the only ones making this difficult for Korra is you,”

“With respect, Asami, what do you know of our culture? Our _tribe_?”

“That _you_ lead it,” Asami pressed. Korra’s breath left her in a rush.

“I’m happy dad,” Korra took her queue from the wild reckless bravery her girlfriend had just wielded, as sharp as any blade. “Even without her, I’m better off living something true. I see that now. It kept me from here, keeping the secret. It kept me from her. Now that it’s out, I want to be clear - I’m a part of this family, this tribe, and nothing can change that. Not even you.”

Her father let out a long slow breath through his nose. Bowing forward, elbows prone on the table now, eyes dropping to their entangled fingers on the same surface. His brow furled, and he smoothed his furrows with this thumb and forefinger as his mind raced.

“I’ve never seen you smile like that.” he spoke the words and they were music, his lungs like bellows letting out something he wasn’t quite aware he’d locked away. He looked up at his daughter now. “In the paper,” he shrugged, “when she held you,”

Korra didn’t know whether to be relieved or mortified, instead she stayed mum, hoping helplessly for more while her pounding heart lifted into her throat. She watched his smoothing thumb trace the bridge of his own nose, and Korra had an inkling of just what he’d seen.

“ _I thought my little girl had lost her dimples_ ,” he let out a laugh that shocked himself, bearing down on tears physically by pushing his fingertips over eyes twisted shut. “You’ve put me in a difficult position.” He heaved a breath, “You know where we come from, you know our traditions,” he shook his head, eyes averted now, “and how our people are reticent to change beyond them,”

“I’m going to have to disagree,” he watched at her now, curious, though Korra had directed her statement to the elder at the head of the table. “Change _is_ tradition dad, it’s how they all start,”

Katara’s smirk grew as she spoke, and when Korra was finished she was positively beaming.

"Every story started in adversity and ended in a new tradition being born. It’s important to understand the value of the changing world. Our story isn’t over yet.”

“And what a story it is,” Katara chimed, her silvery voice resonating through the air with calm and clear finality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Queer Gospel - Erin McKeown
> 
> **
> 
> Sorry this came about so late - I've been living a transient life trying to not be so alone and bogged down by the covidity of it all! 
> 
> Those of you who follow on tumblr you may have seen I was able to commission some amazing art from 5hio (with reader help!) for chapter 7 and I've been thinking up ideas for others. Click back to chapter 7 to see it or copy and paste this link. 
> 
> https://hellorhogwartsfics.tumblr.com/post/632346529938718720/thank-you-for-donating-to-the-brink-art-i-cannot
> 
> It was nice to be able give back in a time where artists are suffering more than usual!  
> Stay safe x


	20. Slow Burn - Kacey Musgraves

Salvation was a treasure on a frozen lake. Take a step, wait for the ice to give, brave another. Korra was worth the risk, Asami only wished she could make the march herself instead of witnessing it all from the shore. She could only hold her hand as she spoke, hoping it would be enough to yank her to safety if she ever fell through.

“My choices aren’t being in love or having a family.” Korra admitted in a breath, squeezing Asami’s fingers between her own, “I need you both…I’m not telling you this to excuse myself from this place, I’m telling you this because I need to be honest with it. I need to feel like I’m home again.”

She wasn’t sure if what Korra was saying incensed or calmed her father, but Tonraq took his notes none the less. Plates cleared away, legal pad under hand, the dinner table had become a boardroom. His wheels were turning, this Asami understood. Storm abated they had a day or so before the sun melted snow to manageable levels; the perfect deadline for the anxious professional. She couldn’t see what he was writing but she could hazard a guess. _Word cloud_.

“By now,” Tonraq scratched his brow, “people here know what Iroh was capable of,” his eyes sought Asami now, and she felt Korra’s thumb smooth her own. “It won’t answer the question of why you married him but why you’d have a good reason to leave,”

“I didn’t know he was capable of this,” Asami corrected, “All I knew was piece by piece my life was being revealed for the sham it really was, that Iroh didn’t love me, and I didn’t love him, not in the way I love Korra,” despite the declaration she found her shame weighing her down, gazing at their entangled fingers, speaking only to Korra now. “I should have kissed you a long time ago.”

Korra’s gaze softened, and before they knew it in their foreheads gravitated together.

Tonraq cleared his throat and turned back his page, pointedly looking away as they retreated, faces burning.

“If anything that’ll help your case,” he huffed, filling the awkward silence.

“What case? We’re just addressing the town,” Korra barely managed to reel in her defences.

“He’s right, this is PR now,” Asami assured, “Right or wrong, this is how we make the change.”

“We?”

“I mean you and your dad sure, but I…” Asami trailed off, scooping her hair behind her ear, eyes bouncing betwixt the two, “I’m here to help, to stand with you…if you’ll have me,”

“ _I can’t_ -” she began in a breath that started to skip, and suddenly Korra was gasping for a single breath of air. Holding it in her chest, and it was then Asami felt her underhand, her body went as still and silent as stone. Ordinarily no one noticed, but Asami was looking right at her. “I need a minute,”

Korra rose sharply, releasing Asami’s hand after a hard squeeze. Asami counted the seconds in her head, watching the door she’d all but jettisoned from.

“She’ll need thick skin for this, you both will,”

“This is Korra we’re talking about,” Asami didn’t even look at him to rebuff. “Name someone stronger.”

Tonraq hummed in response, but Asami ignored him.

“ _Sixty_ ,” counting the last second of Korra’s minute aloud, rising sharply to follow Korra out the door.

She found her just outside the threshold, back pressed against the wall out of sight. Shaking hands reached for her, and Asami laced hers with them instinctively. She watched Korra’s stony demeanour fizzle away and from inside the casing she was frantic, and excited. The very sight had Asami’s heart pounding.

“Why’d you leave?” she asked, stroking the streaks under her eyes, thumbing them away. Ears hot, head spinning, fearing she’d somehow gone too far.

“ _I knew you’d follow,_ ” Korra laughed. Confused as she was Asami was enthralled by Korra’s gravitational pull; it had her stepping into her space and bracing her against the wall. “The idea of what we’re doing - you included - I just I- I-”

“Needed a minute,” Asami finished for her and tugged her into her arms, feeling her bury her face greedily into her throat.

“What were you going to say? ‘ _I can’t’_ what?” she crooned pressing her lips to her temple sweetly.

“Let you do that for me, put you in danger again, but I-”

“ _I want to be here for you_ ,” Asami admonished.

_“I know,_ " Korra whispered, “I was overwhelmed I just- I… _I’ve been hopeless for so long,”_ she closed her eyes, leaning back to show her incredulous face. “But then I felt it,” the shyest smile passed over her lips, “I felt how much you love me,”

“What-”

“I mean - intellectually I knew but - watching you stand up to my parents _,_ I never expected- _I never dreamed you could ever be this perfect for me._ I never let myself think and then suddenly _it was this wave…_ I didn’t think it was possible but I _just_ fell more in love with you, _”_

She gripped Asami’s forearms and smiled finally, earnestly. Eye brows pinched as the last vestiges of sorrow left her body.

“I know the feeling,” Asami whispered, cradling her cheek.

“Before we do this…” Korra trailed off, smile fading, grip still tight, “I have to know if you’re unhappy.”

“What?”

_“I don’t mean now_ , I mean, when things get hard-I’ve had this bug in my brain ever since you told me about your mom taking you away and just…if in five minutes or in five, ten, _twenty_ _years_ , when we’re old and grey - if you’re not okay just tell me _please, because what we’re about to do…_ ” Korra palm pressed on the small of her back, secure and gentle, “You went through your former life _so unhappy_ and you never said anything, not even to me. I couldn’t stand it if that were true again,”

Asami watched her impassively, twined fingers flexing. Hope was imbued in every word Korra had just gifted her. Not in the depressing notion that Asami could ever be unhappy with her, but in the certainty that they’d still be together and in love longer than they’d known each other at this very moment.

“You think we’ll have grey hair when we’re forty five?” she teased, swaying her.

“ _God_ , I hope not,”

“You don’t think we’ll be silver vixens, side by side on a porch somewhere?”

“Maybe,”

“You’re not looking forward to it?”

“Asami-”

“I’ll tell you everything,” she vowed, “I promise if you promise,” pressing her lips to Korra’s forehead as she nodded. “Shall we get back in there?”

“Another minute,” Korra squeezed her.

*****

In the abstract, when they were planning this, Korra was sure she’d be more afraid than she turned out to be. In one moment she attributed it to having Asami right beside her, but in the next, she had the odd feeling that she was simply ready for this. That the path set out in front of her was an obvious one, so she needn’t struggle or fret.

“The jet is on the runway,” Asami informed her, pressing her collar smooth for the tenth time since they’d entered the Town Hall inner sanctum, “and we can be in the air in less than thirty minutes,”

Korra’s hand caught her ministrations and steadied her, lips turning up in that sly smile.

“You’re being very blasé about a potential pitchfork and torch situation, Korra,”

“We can only do what we can do,” Korra reminded her, “Let the chips fall,”

“Oh my goodness, are you on drugs again?” Asami accused, free hand tilting her chin up to inspect her pupils. Korra laughed her off.

“No it’s,” she shrugged, “we put a lot of work in,” she bit her lip, “and my worst fears have kind have all come true,” she scrunched up her nose in distaste but her tone was light, “it’s actually quite a load off,”

Asami blinked owlishly at her, studying her features for errant signs of insanity, but her girlfriend seemed calm, and it had her own panic deflating just enough.

“Still though - if I tell you to run, we’re flying out of here,”

“Sure but, if we don’t have to, it’d be nice to go back on the ferry,” Korra’s gaze slid away sheepishly, while her palms braced the curve of Asami’s waist, “maybe another time, going alone is no picnic, but it’s so much more fun with someone to enjoy it with,”

“Are you asking me out?” Asami accused with narrowing eyes, and for that second Korra squirmed and blushed in front of her, she had her answer.

“Ladies,” Tonraq emerged from a flurry of signed papers and briefed staff, adjusting his cufflinks and regalia just so as he approached the hall doors. “How are we feeling?”

“Fine,” Korra smiled at him.

Korra could never have answered if not for the days that preceded the question. Since their strategising, eventually all that was left to do was live a life trapped in a snowed in house with her family, and her girlfriend in tow. Katara also, who seemed to appreciate the creche of warmth she’d happened to fall into even if it wasn’t her own.

They’d eaten together again, and whiled the evening hours away with several rounds of cards. An activity Korra usually was too impatient to enjoy, and would tank her position just to get out of flitting through droll paper rectangles her elders had always insisted on being fun. In this single spectacular instance, she found herself invested, if only to watch her girlfriend and mother in a tête-à-tête of strategy and luck. She even noted that her father, as impatient as she, stuck around to witness whomever could keep Senna on her proverbial toes.

The Mayor was positively gleeful when his wife was down to a single card and Asami had a handful of twenty or so in her hand, but Korra knew better than to bet against the Engineer with a twinkle in her eye. Given her turn she ran in patterns, placing them in alternating suits until she’d cleared her hand. When she was done she folded her hands in her lapand sat back in her seat to survey the damage.

Korra had never seen her parents expressions so still for so long. She had no idea her father's eyebrows could go that high. Asami tucked her hair behind her ears, bouncing her eyes between the four of them.

“ _Another round_?”

It was the first time in all of Korra’s life that she had been home, and truly honest. The opportunity was a unique one. Another first; she fell asleep in her childhood bed as an adult and didn’t wake up in an anxious languor. She was sure it was merely minutes prior that her head had hit pillow and Asami had curled into her, ear pressed diligently against her chest.No-one was more surprised than her to hear birdsong floating in from outside.

That morning, it was agreed the only way to avoid being saddled with washing up duty, was to make the breakfast themselves. Something that the heiress was becoming uncharacteristically at ease with. She’d even memorised the timings so that she could grab Korra in each lull, and the pair could huddle leaning against a counter for exquisite minutes at a time.

“ _To keep warm,”_ she’d insisted, cuddling closer to Korra in their corner, running her cheek over her sweater as those strong arms tightened and propped her up. Both were fully aware they were being observed at this point, and initially had agreed wordlessly that no more affection than hand holding should take place in the presence of Korra’s family. Though no dissent ever came in response to overt affections, and over time, the fear of it dissipated. As they were being watched, Korra was watching back, and sure enough the unexpected was becoming the new normal. She found herself at ease whenever Asami kissed her palm suddenly or snuggled next to her in the same room as her elders.

In a room with a microcosm of her hometown however, was a different story.

The hall doors were oak, and heavy, and Korra nudged them for a moment to see the crowd outside. Her eyes sought familiarity first, and immediately spotted her cousins at the back of the room, their father Unalaq tall and sallow beside them, smirking irritably. In another life she’d slap that smirk off his face, but she was in enough trouble as it was.

She noticed next the rash of vibrant colours dotted from a collection of peoples gathered on left side of the room. Her jaw dropped and already pounding heart kicked into overdrive. They were Water Tribe, and they were allies, like her.

“Dad-”

“I gave Kya a call, she gave me some numbers, a sailing club, a local bar-”

“ _There’s a gay bar in town_?”

“I don’t think I’d have been I’d have been a very responsible parent to bring a nine year old to any bar Korra,”

“You knew?”

“No matter where you go Korra, there’s always going to be people like you, no matter who you are,” Korra balked at the thought of it. Right under her nose. “They’re waiting for you,”

He opened the door for his daughter, her girlfriend, his wife. Mayoral staff filed out after him, and as he approached the podium at the head of the room, the cacophony of voices softened to silence. Korra caught sight of Katara in the front row with other elders, and waved back at her as she took her seat.

“Good Afternoon, members of the press and citizens of Harbour town,”camera’s flashed and Tonraq paused until they ceased. “As many of you know already - my daughter is in love, and it is love.” He met her gaze at the edge of the room, and Korra did her best not to squirm as heads turned. All she could do was cling tighter to Asami’s fingers.

“She and Miss Sato have been smitten with one another for the better part of two decades. They’ve also faced monumental barriers that preclude a relationship like theirs. Barriers such as a marriage of duty, honour and familial pressures to abide by what society has dictated. Barriers which many of us will have no idea what it is like to face - to overcome and some of us, here today, know all too well.”

“It’s easy to get defensive - when you live in a place that has spent so long defending our pride, our land, our history and how we’ve adapted to a harsh unyielding world. Change is essential to our way of life. So what do we do when faced with something we can’t understand from experience? Personally, I had a choice, to bury my head in the snow, or, to educate myself in order to be a better father and I hope - a better Mayor. This was actually brought to my attention by my Korra, stand up honey. If there is one thing I do know about my position, it is that listening to my constituents is also essential, so without further ado - Korra,”

A pin dropping would have disturbed the crowd beyond measure as Korra climbed the pedestal after her father. She threw a cursory gaze back to Asami, whom she expected to find alone, but sometime after she’d reluctantly dropped her hand, Senna had picked it up. Her heart skipped to see it, and the warmth rippled from her core to her fingertips to see Asami’s watery encouraging smirk.

She turned to face the small crowd. Braving her own brief smile, before leaning into the mic.

“Hey,” she immediately received shrill feedback and she backed off. “ _Sorry_ , new at this,” a few people chuckled, and it calmed her. “I want to say thank you for being here. I have to say looking out on so many people with rainbows in the crowd - I had no idea there were so many of you. This is not the place I thought I grew up in, it’s not the place I left. I never expected to be surprised so thank you for that.”

Looking out at them now there could only have been twenty of them, and in a town of thousands it was a tiny percentage. Still she couldn’t help but get choked up at the sight of them.

"The Harbour town I grew up in a tapestry of stories. Some history some legend. Some began with war, some spiritual and politcal awakenings. Some were even love stories. Those were always my favourites." Korra allowed herself to smirk, just a little. "Here today, is one of them, what Asami and I have. If you'd care to ask us it was a lifetime in the making, and we are the first to own up to our mistakes. Characters arent without flaws. The best stories are woven into the lives of those who tell them. They're guides. They're hope. I hope more kids like me can hear ours, and have what I never did."

“In the wake of a scandal like ours, people always look for the bad in the people that did it. They rarely look at the cause. I’m not here to lecture. I’m not going to ask for forgiveness or a chance to explain myself. What it did for me was put a lot of things in perspective. Might the path to my own happiness, with the woman I love, be less fraught if I’d had someone like me ahead showing me the way? Might. Would’ve. Should’ve. Could’ve. I wasted so much time being unhappy, because I thought the world I lived in would never allow my wildest dreams to come true and when they did, I realised happiness isn’t something that just comes to you. You fight for it. You act on it every day. You campaign. You write your own happy ending, and you hope it might inspire someine elses...”

“Which is why, as of last night a law has been passed that no citizen of Harbour Town can be discriminated against because of their sexual orientation, whether in their careers, their homes, their well being or their marriage,” Korra’s every cell was shaking vigorously with every word. With every gasp she prompted from the crowd.

“ _Thank you_ ,” she was at heart a woman of few words, and thusly rushed the last two. When she was finished she all but ran to Asami’s arms side stage, and kissed her quick, twice, with trembling lips before she lost her nerve. The room erupted in a clamour of incensed shouts, camera flashes, applause and questions.

“ _You did it,_ ” Asami’s breath was husky with emotion, new to them both until recently and Korra decided she could listen to it forever. She could only respond by stuffing her face into the warm hollow of her throat, absorbing those long fingers scratching her scalp soothingly and the capillary waves that thrilled her whole being.

When they finally parted, Korra’s free hand was taken up by her mother’s, gazing at her with wonder before turning her attention to her father. Tonraq had dutifully re-taken his post, and much like a conductor would an orchestra, raised his hands and quietened the sounds.

“While I am in office, the midsummer solstice, marks the start of a new tradition in Harbour Town, one we sorely need - Pride week,”

“This is outrageous!” A dissenting voice pricked the Mayor’s ears, Unalaq his brother stood looming in the back of the room, his children flanking him. Eska looking positively bored, and Desna eying the rainbow crowd with something oddly other than disdain.

“Write it on your ballot come election day,” Tonraq responded cooly, lifting the bill for all to see and smiling for the camera’s, even and open. Korra had expected a mixed reaction, but she could only look at the pride in the faces of those her allies, and could only hear their cheers over everything else.

****

Korra didn’t quite know what to say to her parents, she was prepared for a much worse outcome way back when. On the dock, by the ferry, instead she was wordlessly clinging to her mother. The only errant thought in her head was that she wondered how she’d ever forgotten this feeling. Her hand rubbing soothing circles between her shoulder blades.

She felt safe in the knowledge her girlfriend was admiring the monster cruiser that ferried people from Republic City to Harbour Town, and that her father was explaining its long and boring history. Asami fingers were surely pursed on her lips as she listened, no doubt actually interested being the information gatherer she was. There was comfort that she at least knew these two people. Paradoxically there was also unmeasured happiness, that they could still surprise her after all these years.

“Was it everything you hoped for?” Her mother asked, gentle and contrite.

“More than,” voice wavering, Korra made a point to squeeze her as she answered. “So much more,”

When they parted, Senna smiled at her sniffling, fingers still tweaking the edges of Korra’s clothes in the same way she did whenever she dropped her off from school.

“I hope you know how sorry I am… that you didn’t feel safe.” Korra had had a sense, that through all the time they’d spent together in her home, Senna had been trying to find the words.

“I know,”

She’d sensed it in their encounters around the house and over meals. Lingering in their goodnights, and good mornings. Day time walks and nature trails. In her parents joint vigilance in keeping Asami upright, warm and (further) injury free. In the way she’d witnessed her mother squeeze her girlfriend’s arm fondly, as she taught her to make sea weed noodles. When she’d actually managed to sleep in, and caught her patching up Asami’s shoulder on the edge of the bathtub. Her girlfriend’s skin howling red, and her expression moved to tears.

“I just-”

“No more of those,” Korra assured her. It was long after that moment, that Korra realised that this was the first and only time she had ever swiped a tear from her own mother’s cheek.

The ships horn signalled for last passengers to board, and they parted. Tonraq wrapped the trio of women in a masterful bear hug, before setting them back to ground. He made a point of bracing his hand aside Korra’s cheek, they’d said goodbye not long before, but the instinct to repeat was strong. He did the same of Asami, smirking fondly at his daughters fierce friend and everything more.

“Are you ready?” Asami asked, fingers already lacing with Korra’s.

“Let’s do it,” Korra replied, chest still fluttering with excitement at a hummingbird’s speed.

Much had changed since she’d last boarded this ship; she was no longer dependent on dishonesty to feel safe, she was no longer a lone passenger and she was more certain in the bond she shared with the woman she loved than she ever thought possible.

“Where to first?” Asami pressed, combing hair over Korra’s ear as they meandered into the lobby of the ship.

“I’m not sure,” Korra admitted, “I thought we could get a bite, go to the arcade, I think there’s a movie theatre nearby, or Photo Booth..? That’s all kids stuff isn’t it,” she blanched, jaw locked as anxiety to impress flushed through her, “All of this was a lot more fun when I was nine,”

“It’s fine Korra,” Asami laughed, soothing her panic with a sly kiss to her cheek, “Come to think of it I never did any of that stuff when I was nine,”

“Arcade first then,” Korra grinned, leading her on triumphant.

She was vaguely aware of the watchers; the Venn diagram of people who knew who she was, had read the paper in the last few days, and were on this very boat today. For the first time she indulged in the luxury of not caring. Instead she basked in the decadence of beating Asami at air hockey, and getting her ass handed to her at ski-ball. It felt like a vacation she’d sorely needed, mostly from herself. Her heart beating to a symphony of splendour as her girlfriend tugged her into a photo booth and made a point of kissing her in a different place between flashes.

“What are you doing?” she asked, watching her slide more coins into the machine.

“A strip for you, a strip for me,” Asami shrugged nonchalantly, framing her jaw with one hand and kissing her cheek, unable to stifle her own smile.

“Alright but this one’s mine,” Korra told her, taking control from her to catch her mouth firmly with hers. She tasted her breath hitching, and body go tense beneath her hands, and before either of them knew it, fingers were threaded in hair as the kiss devolved into something private and tender.

The photos had long since developed, but there was an unspoken agreement that this was possibly the last private place on the ship, and neither wanted to waste the opportunity at what was becoming their new favourite pastime.

Korra’s lips strayed with a feather light touch to the crux of Asami’s throat, enjoying low moan she gave as she long fingers grasped fistfuls of clothes. Using her foothold on the bench Asami yanked her tighter and pressed her into the wall feeling heat low in her belly as she reclaimed Korra’s kiss-slick lips and bit and laved deeper than she knew she should. Gasping breaths filled the booth, and had they thought about it they would have been grateful for the blaring games and ditties covering the wanton sounds from the outside. As it was neither could pull themselves away from the intoxicating embrace and enthralling kiss.

“Oh look mom, the Lebanese ladies from the newspapers!”

They flinched at a tiny voice that was thankfully outside the curtain retaining innocence but instead had taken to admiring their photos that were thankfully PG kisses in comparison to the after.

“Oh dear!” said the mom, as the pair all but fell out of the booth, disheveled and cheeks howling red. Pulses pounding in their ears. Asami managed a polite smile as she claimed their photo strips and thanked the girl inexplicably, before Korra dragged her away by the hand.

Korra hid them in the first cabin she could find, shrouded in darkness. Asami cradling the photos to her chest, watched her lean against the door and take in three deep breaths. Then all of a sudden her aura blazed and sparkle as she started to laugh. Asami’s heart leapt out of her chest at the sight, raising her hands to thumb the tears that slipped out. She decided she loved actively seeking Korra’s joy, teasing it out of her, making her melt.

“Shh!” hissed a voice somewhere in the vicinity of their feet, snapping back the curtain of the lowest bunk on the left side. The snapping passenger stopped them briefly, but the levity was difficult to curtail.

Asami braced her forehead on Korra’s shoulder as she sniggered quietly and Korra looked up at the ceiling, pained.

“ _We should have taken the jet,_ ” she lamented.

Asami kissed her cheek sweetly, and her thumb smoothed the palm of Korra’s hand as she led her to the snug top bunk.

“If we had taken the jet, I wouldn’t have an excuse to get this close to you,”

“If I kick you you’ll fall like six feet,” Korra pointed out.

“So don’t _kick_ me then,” Asami offered, leaning forward to press her lips to hers as silently as she was able. Victory was Korra’s hand bracing on the small of her back and tucking her securely to her front. When it was clear that kissing led down a path they couldn’t particularly follow at that moment, all that was left was gentle ministrations of affection until one of them was able to sleep.

Asami’s fingers traced patterns over Korra’s temple in the dark, and she was sure she was about to succumb to the pull until her girlfriend spoke in a serious tone for the first time in as many hours.

“What now?” she didn’t open her eyes, decided to err on the side of staying in this tender moment.

“Took you long enough,” Asami teased half heartedly.

“I’ve never done this before,”

“You’ve dated I’ve seen you-”

“Not someone I loved.” even in the dark she could see her smiling, eyes closed for love of saying it alone. “I know we haven’t even had a first date yet but I kind if don't want to wake up without you.”

“What was this?”

“A boat trip,” Korra whispered wryly, “We can do better than that,”

There was challenge in the thought, and it lit up something wild and hopeful in Asami’s chest. A small voice in the back of her head reminded her she wasn’t truly free until the divorce was final. On the other hand, nothing could stop them dating, and starting this thing for real, traditionally, perfectly. The idea spurred her with a new excitement; a fresh start with Korra, together.

“Well I don’t sleep over on a first date, so you should know that,”

“I can’t wait to know more about you,” Korra was as whimsical as Asami had ever heard her. She felt her palm flatten on her spine, as though she could squeeze those secrets out of her.

“Well if we’re going to do this, honest, girlfriend- girlfriend, I need you to promise me something,” Korra opened her blues, somehow shining in their dark little cocoon to listen intently to her. “A counter promise to the one you gave me,”

Korra nodded, solemnly, the hand that was tucked under her ribs sliding up to brush her cheek.

"I need you tell me what you want, whenever you want it.” Asami watched her take in the proposition. As she had omitted her unhappiness prior to their affair, so too had Korra denied her self what she wanted. Asami couldn’t have that. “I don’t care how, if it’s a signal, or you starting to just take it from me, I want to know, because I’ll never know enough of you Korra.” Asami cupped her cheeks to bring it home, thumbs stroking parallel arcs under her eyes, “after all this time, the decades to come, I’m still hungry for it. I won’t be complete until you show me what you want.”

There was a moment of stillness, where before Asami would have second guessed herself, and the newfound trust they’d placed in each other. Korra however was stunned to silence by the sensitivity of the statement. She felt adored, and for once she knew what to do with it. Pitching forward to kiss her soft and sweet, nodding all the while.

“You’ll know from now on I promise,” she vowed. Spurred by her bravery, she attempted to tackle the next looming thought. “You don’t have to hide out at mine anymore, will you go back? To that big house all by yourself?”

Asami smirked, it was too soon to move in together, but it would taste a lie it wasn’t an idea she had been entertaining almost every hour they’d been together out here.

“I’ll be fine going back, I was alone there before,”

“Yeah waiting for me or him-”

“I’m a big girl Korra, I can go back to my house by myself,”

“That’s not what I’m saying, I just - you don’t have to I could come to you,”

“I know,” Asami hushed, thumb tracing her lower lip in the dark, “But not in the bed I shared with _him_ ,” she tucked her fingers in the soft of Korra’s hair at the nape of her neck. “We have to do this right. To date, sleep apart and sleep together,”

Korra fell to silence, cogs turning as she pondered what the next few days and months would look like.

“How long will it take to get a new one?” Korra pressed petulant and Asami chuckled.

“It’s already there, just needs to be assembled and the old one thrown out,”

“Ah so you’re asking for someone to help you put it together,” Korra teased.

“They say it is the ultimate relationship test,” Asami hummed.

“After what we’ve been through? It’ll be a breeze,”

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song 2 - My Lover - Birdtalker


	21. Stormy Weather - Etta James

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stormy Weather - Etta James  
> Korra's suit loosely based off of Kristen Stewart's from 'Happiest Season' - look it up and thank me later

Korra let herself into Asami’s house with the key Opal had lent her what seemed a lifetime ago. She only began to question the audacious act a few seconds after she was already over the threshold. When there was no protest she explained.

“I know we said we’d meet at the restaurant but I was out and I saw that kind of off white, blue egg shell you were describing and it was either bring it here or there…Asami?”

She looked up into the kitchen she’d wandered into, and found herself alone. Dropping the hardware store bag on the counter, she whirled combing anxious fingers through painstakingly pinned hair. In the reflection of the microwave she corrected the sheath on her left side tucked in place behind her ear. While she was at it, she twisted the buttons of her shirt, higher, lower, feeling a dangerous thrum as the parting ended over her sternum, certain it was the perfect height because of it. She smoothed the lapels of her blazer before mussing the collar of her white shirt just a little just so it didn’t look too new.

Even though she was alone she found herself flushing. It made sense to buy a new suit for this, to primp and prepare while she could because this was _Asami_.

In the waiting before coming here she found herself wandering the city, and the hardware store beckoned as she thought more and more about the home Asami had returned to. They’d discussed it and grown used to the idea they wouldn’t be spending endless days together as they had recently. Both had become swept up in the idea that they could eradicate the old memories with a few coats of paint and the Sato place could become refreshed and breathable again. That although Korra didn’t live with her, they could work on it together, and that would be enough.

Was she being presumptuous? Would her former best friend expect their only change to an evening-time dinner to be they could occasionally kiss and flirt and hold hands? _I’m too excited_ , Korra balked. The drum line of a thousand hearts pounding loudly in her chest as her panic twisted inside her. _She left her husband for me and she’s going to run away screaming when she realises I’m a total dork!_

She glanced down on the iron grip she was now holding the panda lilies with. Cursing she filled a vase and dropped them in, attempting to save broken stems before carrying them to the empty living room.

_If she likes them take credit for them later._ She planned anxiously, _if she doesn’t, blame Opal._

In her periphery she spotted the glow of the open secret door in the book case, and instantly she knew where Asami was hiding. Korra traced her fingers down the wall as she followed the path, the memory of her last time in this room bled into her good mood. Her worries dissipated at the sight of her backless dress; a lucky crimson, rouge and silken and beautiful with golden edges. The outfit she’d worn to declare her love a similar palette, but totally blown out of the water by this; and Korra could only see her back. Suddenly she didn’t feel so overdressed. She watched her just standing there, fingertips prone over her dark lipstick.

“Asami?” Korra asked tentatively, and stunned to hear her Asami spun to greet her. Smile tight, eyes sore.

“Korra, _hey,_ what are you doing here so early?”

“I found your paint, _blue egg…_ do you know any birds that actually lay blue eggs?”

“Robins, starlings and Araucana chickens among others,” Asami rattled them off absently, eyes glazing to a spot between them as she returned to the thoughts that she was lost in moments before.

“Of course you do,” Korra couldn’t help but smile warmly at her, and she felt her frosty aura melting, “You see this is why I’m glad we’re doing this, I get to know so much more about that brain of yours,”

“I was just about to pick you up,” Asami informed her, shaking out of her languor. Her gaze softened, “You’re wearing makeup,”

“You only get one chance at a good first date,” Korra chagrinned scrunching up her nose, reaching back instinctively to grip the back of her neck. Eyes bouncing nervously until she took her in, her watery gaze and arm wrapped about her stomach tight and tense. “Are you okay? Did something come up? We can reschedule..?”

“ _No,_ I want this, I’m sorry, this isn’t- I wasn’t,” she turned to the object of her ennui, and Korra finally recognised Hiroshi’s prototype supercar back in its parking spot, once their mighty steed, Korra’s cage, and of course where Asami had been shot. She searched for signs of distress in the window, or headrest, but it seemed Asami had had it repaired. Those scars had been covered up in an effort to reclaim the good. In the aftermath of it however had trapped the heiress in this entropy.

“I had it in my head that this was our getaway, and I should pick you up for our date and it would be _romantic,”_ she confessed, avoiding those kind eyes as she took to her self deprecating nature, “but this car it… the memories aren’t you being kind to me or what it felt like having you back, it’s what happened after,” Asami whispered, mostly to herself, “I feel so stupid,”

“I get it,” Asami turned to look at her, feeling foolish and her expression marred by that skepticism, but in the face of it Korra shrugged. “Banyan Grove was already special to us, the house was your mother’s and yeah she died here but she wanted you to have it and we’re making it yours.” word for word, her girlfriend spoke aloud what she had been feeling but had been utterly unable to articulate.

Korra tilted her head to make her own deductions of the beast in front of them, flowing easily as though it were feeding her the words.

“This was our getaway when we needed it and then… something terrible happened. You wanted to see if you could reclaim it. Like the Tree, the house, _me -_ but what he did to you was unforgivable. You don’t have to cover it up or put on a brave face to hide it anymore.”

She worried for half a second that she’d made the whole thing worse with her babble of conjecture, until Asami took the hand she was offering, and entangled her fingers with a soft wry smile.

“Iroh or my father?”

“Both, but mostly your dad.” Korra smirked back, bringing the hand she held close to her chest, almost nonchalant in the way both her hands worked around it to warm the cold extremities. “You don’t have to absolve everything painful to have it mean something.” She spoke from her own experience then, “Sometimes things are just painful. The only way to move on from them is to bear it, or _symbolically_ destroy the part of it _in yo-_ ” Asami’s lips cut her off, drawn to her utterly and helplessly, in the way that she understood her better than anyone she’d ever met, without ever really having to try. Korra wasn’t quite as adept at just _going with it_ as Asami was. In a blip she regressed into her prior very surprised, ecstatic fifteen year old self and back. She did manage to grip Asami’s elbows for support and tilt her head.

“So what do we do?” Asami asked breathlessly in the parting.

“Shows over. No more pretend,” Korra offered her free hand semi-awkwardly between them, palm faced up, ”Do you trust me?”

“I think it’s pretty obvious by now that I do,” Asami told her, kissing her cheek and dropping the keys into her grip. “Who taught you to do a smokey eye?” she asked bewildered that her best friend had even picked up a make up brush at all, let alone how categorically gorgeous it made her. She could feel Korra’s cheeks heating up under the thumb that wiped away her lip-stick-kiss.

“It actually started as just a smidge of eyeliner and ended up a smudge - I tried I don’t really know what I’m doing why does it look bad?” Korra reached instinctively correct it, but all she ended up doing was cupping Asami’s palm to her cheek.

“No not at all,” now it Asami’s turn to blush, throat dry, biting her lip as she dropped her gaze to the smoke show Korra had arrived as. She gripped her lapels and found satisfaction in the light tug she gave and where she might lead her.

“Aren’t you tempted to just stay here, though?” she was weak and she knew it, and she could see Korra being swayed as her enamoured gaze followed her mouth, “Why don’t we just stay in and just-”

"Date first!” Korra reeled, surprising herself, “well, car mission, and then date.”

As Korra caught her hands and dislodged her grip Asami felt the blood rush back into her brain.

“Right,” she nodded, chest fluttering, playing with those fingers as the gravity of what they were about to do exhilarated her. “ _Wait_ ,” she snatched at her, unable to stem the erratic behaviour her newfound joy spurred. It seemed to come out of her sporadically in pops and whistles, like fireworks. She found herself cradling Korra’s jaw, “Hi,” her voice was tight, “is it too early to tell you how beautiful you look right now?”

Korra laughed in a burst, full of nerves and delight and triumph.

“You too,” was all she could muster in response. Korra opened the car door for her, the half idea in her head now fully formed.

It was then Asami finally felt that sense of safety she’d been craving; reclining on her seat and looking over to see Korra taking the wheel. She reached out and stroked her knee with affection, and Korra looked back at her like she was everything. Soon enough she found herself leaning into her across the console, tucking herself into her homely shoulder. It was cliche and she knew it, but the capacity to care evaporated with Korra’s thumb arcing over her bare shoulder.

The restaurant was in the glitzy part of Republic City, tucked away in a central Soho near Kyoshi park. As Korra drove all that fell away, it wasn’t long before scaffolding, warehouses and single story bars slid past. She stopped outside a literal dump. Asami could see the long line of destructive vehicles beside them; a tow truck, bulldozer, forklift and even a wrecking ball. Hills of scrap iron, discarded appliances and car parts smothered the skyline. Opposite them was an exquisite pile of crushed cubed cars. Like everything in this city, it all seemed to gleam. This was because it had rained recently (and would again soon) and the lamp lights lit up every metallic surface. Every vertical pole had strings of lanterns guiding the way to the owner’s trailer, all the way up from a high and looming water tower.

“I realise this pretty presumptuous, but I was mostly thinking of how cathartic this would be and the benefit weighed-”

“It’s perfect,” Asami interrupted, and Korra huffed with relief.

“Amazing,” Korra grinned that perfect grin, “Let me go check Bumi’s schedule.”

She ejected from the car, leaving Asami reeling that she seemed to know said owner, so much so that it became too late to go and introduce herself as Korra explained the situation without taking a breath.

“ _I will pay you 1000 yuans to destroy this car in the next twenty minutes._ ”

“Ha! I would have done it for 50,” Bumi responded, well versed in shenanigans with a proclivity for not asking pertinent questions.

“Deal!” Korra snatched his hand and shook it vigorously. The older man balked and accepted defeat.

“Say why are you all dolled up there?”

“Oh this is a date,” Korra pointed to Asami and waved at her, now standing and watching them from the side of the car adjusting her shawl over her shoulders. Her girlfriend waved back shyly.

Bumi let out an appraising whistle.

“You’ve got style kid I’ll give you that,”

“Another twenty and you’ll make it a good show?” Korra asked.

Asami couldn’t hear what they were saying, but when Korra came back she wasn’t surprised to hear she was successful.

“There’s seats up in the water tower,” Korra shut the car door beside Asami, “unless there’s anything you want from inside?”

Asami was still bewildered by the turn of events, and could only shake her head at the suggestion.

“I’ll meet you up there?” Asami decided there and then she’d do anything Korra asked if she just kept smiling at her and touching her like this, and she nodded mechanically. As she made the climb she could see nestled in the labyrinthine scrap heaps was a car compactor. She felt a shaky breath oozing out of her as though she were about to take the high dive herself. There was an old city bus bench that had been moved here specifically for spectator purposes. Looking beyond the trash heap she could see the city laid out before them, glittering in waiting.

A minute later Korra joined her, every other step joined with a series of delicate clinks. Asami watched her rise and gingerly untangle the stems and bottle from her grip.

“ _Champale_ ,” she explained, “For the best seats in the house,”

Asami took her flute and as Korra popped the cork and poured, she eyed her with suspicion.

“You’ve done this before,” Asami accused gently. Korra didn’t look up from her task as she replied fully expecting the question.

“The car that hit me was impounded as evidence. I made a request. Mako got it out.”

“And that gentleman crushing my father’s prize car down there is?”

“Bumi; Kya’s brother,” Korra’s eyes gleamed with that air of mischievousness that Asami hadn’t seen in over a decade. Asami had no other choice but to grip her lapel and tug her down for a firm kiss.

“I love you,” she informed her.

“I love you too,” Korra replied casually, “You know with any other person it would be absolutely insane to admit that on a first date,”

“Are you suggesting we pretend we don’t know each other?” Asami teased.

“There’s an idea; starting over.” she pursed her lips as she considered an alternative life without their history. She took her seat beside her, retaining her clasp on Asami’s fingers and she sat back to take in the show.

Below them Bumi whooped and whistled, he’d recklessly swung the Satomobile into the mouth of the compactor, and now he was at the controls, shaking a lit match with his wrist.

“Did he just…light a fuse?” Asami asked peering over the edge.

“Yeah you’re going to want to sit back a little,” Korra braced a hand on her chest.

In an instant claws burrowed into the hull of the red beast, screeching with a howl of metal crumpling, piercing and scraping. Asami flinched, but in an instant she knew she was dealing a blow right into her father’s dearly departed soul. It was petty. It was necessary. Already she felt _lighter._ Korra squeezed her hand assuredly and Asami squeezed back, enamoured with the destruction below them. Sparks flew in all directions, and great squeals and whistles of coloured sparks erupted from inside the car. A rocket pinned to the front spun wildly in a flurry of red flare as the panels of car compactor raised and crushed the fireworks, and subsequently the car, into submission.

“The Catherine wheel was a bit much…” Korra murmured, but trailed off with fascination as long metal arms protruded and smooshed the car into shape.

They watched enraptured until the process was over, until Hiroshi Sato’s last masterpiece was nothing more than a cube in a pile of other anonymous cubes. Asami allowed a single tear for the moment, and she convinced herself it was one of joy and freedom, because that’s how she felt holding Korra’s hand and having her temple resting against her shoulder. The sat there for a time, basking in the unorthodox, yet beautiful moment, until Korra’s stomach growled audibly and she wondered aloud.

“You think if we get a cab now, the restaurant will still be holding our table?”

****

The one thing her affair had given Asami, besides Korra, was a keen sense of when Paparazzi were near. There were certain things top restaurants couldn’t resist leaking for notoriety’s sake. When Korra opened the door of the cab for her and she stood up, she made a point of dropping her shawl from her shoulders as she took her hand. As she kissed her cheek, Asami’s ears piqued at the sound of the closing shutter, and she knew they’d captured not only the intimate moment, but the bullet-hole scar she flaunted proudly on the back of her right shoulder.

The attention was an inevitable by product of her fame and their scandal. She’d made the decision to speak to them wordlessly and control her narrative. A skill she’d picked up recently from her new girlfriend. She took Korra’s hand for comfort and led her inside for the best meal she’d ever had, mostly because it was fed to her piece by piece interspersed with kisses and fond touches in their private booth. When it was over and she paid, she found herself eager to extend the night, which was something she’d never found herself craving before. She tugged Korra into Kyoshi park to stroll most of the way home together, hand in hand in the dazzling lamp light.

“Are they dogging at least?” Sueng sighed.

“I don’t know I’ve just got shot after shot of them holding hands and making moon-eyes at each other.” Hello magazine’s freelancer was clicking through his camera.

“I’m going to call my editor, there’s a cat fashion show a mile away with more pussy action than this,” Zoo magazine concurred his distaste.

“You guys are pigs, so they’re happy, so what?” the Independent piped up, leaning against a tree taking a drag from her cigarette, as the five-some attempted to look semi-non-conspicuous night photographers.

“Happy doesn’t sell papers,” Sueng seethed “these two were the biggest scandal of the year, chaotic, _beautiful,_ messes that had no regard for how the public saw them - _perfect disasters,”_

“Hey what’s up with Ryu?”

Ryu was sat on the grass behind them, his long legs bowed and knees bent by his ears after all the drive he’d had had been crushed like the Sato supercar hours before. His cousin Sueng had been dragging him round the city to complete the story but his heart wasn’t in it.

“He’s still upset about the car,” his cousin explained.

“She was one of a kind!” he lamented, snivelling still. “Fourteen pistons with,” he hiccuped, squeaking, “ _a chain and leather steering wheel_ ,”

As though feeling his pain, the Republic City skies began to mist and drizzle down on them; a light rain dappling their dark jackets and lenses.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” said the Independent, flicking her cigarette butt into the night and flipping up her collar against the weather, “See you guys at the next rodeo.”

Sueng scooped his cousin up from the ground by his arm.

“Come on buddy, I bet we can ask the nice trash man if you can keep the cube,”

Asami was sure they were alone when they reached the meandering trail at the edge of a pond. She took a moment to pause and listen to the fountain; a dragon spitting water in an elegant arc; every angle of the stream capturing a kaleidoscope of moonlight.

As the cacophony of rain thickened she could only think of the lake at Banyan, and how incredible it was to finally have someone mad enough to kiss her in the storm. On any other night she might fret about her makeup or try to recall if this particular dress would fare well in inclement weather but then all she wanted to do was cradle Korra’s face and kiss her gently as the dapples darkened their clothes drop by drop. Soon enough the streams could have been a shimmering curtain shielding them from the prying eyes of the world.

She fed her fingers into Korra’s hair, mussing up the painstakingly styled edges as she’d been dying to all night. She strayed to the salty sweet of her neck and, yes, something else she’d detected in delicate wafts throughout their first date. Korra had thought of everything at every level, intensifying her sight, her scents, her sounds even, and pulled out all the stops.

“We should go inside,” Korra lamented as Asami suckled her pulse, finding at some point during their tryst that Asami had walked her back so her spine pressed into a tree, “I don’t want you to get hypothermia again,”

“Just one more minute,” Asami requested, and Korra acquiesced knowing full well it was a ruse to acquire many more. She in turn returned the favour of carding her fingers through Asami’s precise up do, tugging her lip-stick slick lower lip between her teeth a she angled her head and pulled her deeper down into her embrace. The chill was bracing, and it only served to make the two of them burn brighter against one another. Slanted mouths slotted together perfectly, and under their compromised shelter, even thick dispersed drips couldn’t distract from the feeling of completeness it gave them. _I love you_ wasn’t in the saying anymore, it was in the touches and grips, the gasps and angles of their body gravitating together. It was the willingness to bear the storm for just one more second together.

Neither could say how they mustered the strength to part, but it was more to do with the way Asami was shivering uncontrollably against her than the intensity of the moment. It was far longer than a minute that Asami’s hard kiss was replaced with a softer one.

Now at the edge of the park opposite Korra’s apartment, she stood enveloped in a borrowed hoodie she was already planning to thieve beside an open cab. Stealing more moments while she could.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You’re not even pretending not to know me,” Korra teased, to which her date could only smile.

“Not at all,”

****

Asami realised that Korra was keeping her promise almost a week after she’d made it. She’d kept it more or less the entire time, yet it was so subtle it took Asami as long to recognise she was asking for what she wanted with a series of Pavlovian taps. Automatic responses inspired by a soft brush of Korra’s hand. A little finger over her own signalled a desire to entangle them. A stroke of her spine was an invitation to follow wherever she led. In bed she would nudge her forehead into Asami’s shoulder and in return Asami would wind her fingers through her hair. Those blue eyes dropping to her lips always spurred Asami into leaning to meet her. A simple touch to her shoulder meant Korra needed an achingly sweet embrace, where her eyes would tuck under Asami’s throat and she would breathe her in. This was the language that Korra spoke with no words, and Asami herself found herself being conditioned into a cunning linguist. The key to its brilliance was subtlety and nuance.

“I am going to ram this bed so far up IKEA’s ass they’re going to need a thousand enemas to get it out!” she seethed bending the piece of wood she had in her hands to such a curve that it almost snapped.

“Oh-kay,” it had the desired effect however, and already Korra was combing her fingers through Asami’s locks and running her fingertips in small circles over her temples. After of course removing the offending appendage. “What do the instructions say?”

“There are no instructions just anatomically incorrect pictures of sticks going on other sticks in no apparent order to make god knows what at this point!”

“Take a breath,” Korra instructed from behind. So far they’d constructed a loose cage around themselves, and had sat perched in the middle sure they could build their way out. “You’re an engineer,” she cooed, “one of the smartest people in the country, and I’m sure the whole world, I’m sure you can figure this out without instructions, what with your know how and my brute force,”

Asami softened against her, leaning back into her arms.

“I know it’s just we’re running out of time, we’ve got the second coat of paint in here and the kitchen, or I guess tomorrow at this rate, I just want to be done so I can _live here, and enjoy it with you_ and we don’t have to spend all our time working when you visit, after your full time job wherein you are very behind because - you know why _because_.”

“I feel like I’m stating the obvious but - you are kind of rich, you could hire someone to pick up the slack maybe?” Korra enquired tentatively.

“Absolutely not I have to do this,”

“Your belligerence is enchanting,” Korra teased, magic fingers floating down to press and unravel the knots in her shoulders.

“My parents used hire everybody for everything, at work they were titans of industry but here as helpless as infants…and my father treated _the help_ as, well, you saw.”

“I don’t mind doing this with you,” Korra chided gently, bowing forward to press a soothing kiss to the nape of her neck, “I’m quite enjoying making memories,” she balanced her chin on Asami’s shoulder, arms wrapping around her stomach from behind and tug her snug between her legs.

Asami hummed in agreement. Her anxious and prickly demeanour lost its edge as Korra sank three more soothing kisses into the crook of her neck. Her brain shrank to a decimal point, and had all she had the capacity to express was the following.

“Maybe I’m less frustrated with the assembly of this bed and more the wait to express my gratitude after,” Korra’s kisses paused at the familiar voice that had dropped to a low growl.

“ _Let me look_ -” Korra cleared her throat and lowered the voice an embarrassing octave, “Give me those instructions,”

It wasn’t long before those instructions were torn and thrown aside. Together they separated the pieces and began assembling the puzzle from the best of their combined logic and the photo on the box. Korra’s focus became razor sharp in the calm. Working around Asami made her feel and act smarter. Whether it was the catharsis in the shared task, or the company, but as they worked the bed began to take shape much faster than Asami had fret. The act itself became gleeful, and Korra was reminded why she’d chosen Asami as her best friend and everything more some time ago; she had a talent for making mundanity magnificent.

Mattress in place she flopped back on it, finding pride in the frame holding steady. Asami took her side almost silently and Korra tilted her head up to grin at her triumphant. Asami’s expression snagged her breath; a pink tongue darting out for that split second to wet her lips. The unconscious move lit the charged air between them.

“What’s next?” Korra asked quietly, only partially earnest, but by the end of the sentence she was entirely aware that nothing she said now mattered.

Neither could say who reached first, but in the next, Asami’s hands hook under the nape of her neck and Korra springs forward and kisses her, as reflexive as breathing. Their bodies find that perfect slot against one another, sounds of their scraping limbs against the silken scratch of an unmade bed hissing as Asami straddles Korra’s hips and her hands find purchase on the bare skin hot under her collar.

Asami feels the tap of her fingers against her jean buttons, and her mind inexplicably returns to the tasks she’d laid out for the evening. It’s a sweet agony to deny the slick wetness she’s grinding upon then; evidence that she’d been ready for this long before the bed had even left it’s box.

“Asami,” Korra growls in protest, her fingers are caught in Asami’s stalling grip.

“ _Wait_ ,” she hushes, dismounting, sliding off the bed with a modicum of grace but no more. Turning, before Korra’s kisses grace the side of her throat from behind. Suddenly she’s a puddle standing in front of her dresser; enamoured by the zips of pleasure coursing through her at each press of honeyed lips, and the illicit shivers incited by Korra’s warm flat hand slipping under her shirt cupping her breast from behind. It's a miracle she was able to stay standing on two legs.

In a moment of sheer will she yanks open the top drawer and waits for Korra’s kisses to peter off, to look down at the toy nestled in lingerie Asami had been dying to use.

“You didn’t,” was all she muttered, voice low and tone imperceptible. Asami felt the palm on her stomach press her back to her front tighter, and the throb between her legs become more acute.

“Only if you want to,” Her cheeks are a victorious flush; arousal, and anticipation. All anxiety is wiped away as Korra reaches around her for the leather buckles and belts, thumb tracing the curve of the member hard and silicone. As her hand begins to grip with purpose, but again Asami stops her.

“ _No Korra_ , only if _you_ want to,” she makes a point to catch her eye as she says this, her meaning clear. The message passed like a spark between them, and something in Korra’s eyes is both incredibly touched and incensed beyond belief. In the next her hands tug Asami back, cradling her jaw, fingers tangled in her silken locks, and her teeth sinking softly into a tender spot beneath her ear. Eyes rolling back into her head, Asami takes a moment to enjoy her reward as Korra’s fingers pluck her nipple beneath her shirt, before snatching the strap and turning to face her and meet her in a feral kiss.

“I want to press you against any of these walls but they’re wet,” Korra complains against her mouth as her hands flutter down, over her her thighs, her ass, hauling her impossibly closer.

“ _Downstairs,_ ” Asami instructs, taking the hand playing in her shirt and tugging her out the room.

“Kitchen is dry?” Korra barely waited for Asami’s responding _mhmm!_ before walking her back into the nearest wall. Her hard body sealed over hers, reclaiming her mouth and angling her head to deepen the kiss, relishing in those hands clamping over her biceps. Korra can feel the strength in those hands, Asami didn’t often show it, but she could always match Korra blow for blow. Her grip was almost bruising, kiss, biting and fierce, this combined with her tactility and precision told Korra that Asami had been waiting for this for days, all that was missing was the perfect moment to let her plan unfurl.

The unspoken idea lit up Korra’s chest as well as her lower body, and she took her turn to bite and suckle the column of her elegant neck. Bracing her arms behind the small of her back and pulling her tighter. Slotting her thigh between her legs while she had her against the wall, relishing in the instinctive grind she gave in response without thinking. She felt the languid smear of lipstick transferred to her own lips, reprinting on Asami’s ethereal skin, and something similar wiping against her forearms.

Her movement slowed, as her mind recalled what exactly could create a sensation, until she managed to open dilated eyes, and balance her forehead over Asami’s with a heaving breath.

“What? What is it?” Asami asked, soft and husky, staying her own hungry hands from probing further into her clothes. Frustration cut by deep reverence as she cradled Korra’s cheek with the hand not tangled in straps digging into Korra’s hip.

“I don’t think the wall is dry,” Korra croaked. Asami could feel the slick stick of her clothes against her back, and know the _Ardent Coral_ paint was now firmly printed on her back, ass and hair. Despite the setback in her decorating timeline, she could only focus on how desperate she was to have Korra’s tongue in her mouth again.

“ _Oh,”_ Asami balked, biting her lip, swallowing the unexpected pill, but it took her all of three seconds to offer, “I’ll be on top then,” before dipping her head to continue where they left off. Korra could only grin helplessly into her kiss, and feel her walking her back into the open space. There was control to her guidance, as though Asami had mapped the steps from kitchen to couch so she could travel eyes closed, fingers curling into the jeans loose at Korra’s side.

“Dungarees Korra? _Seriously_?” she seethed against her lips, adjusting her hand placements to cradle her neck, and pluck at the latch over her shoulder as they entered the living room. Korra would have reminded her how useful the pockets of this particular garment as it held bolts and screws as well as all manner of tools with room to spare, but her protest was immediately silenced by Asami’s insistent mouth.

Much of the former decor of this room had been thrown out and replaced. All that remained was the corner white couch Asami’d had when she’d moved in and a photograph she hadn’t the heart to part with after all these years; with pride of place on the mantel. The large family portrait had been replaced with a mirror that filled the room with more sunlight and reflected its warmth back inside.

Finally Asami managed to twist both of Korra’s clasps free and she was stripped from the waist down in a foray of denim and a clatter of forgotten brass pieces. Korra stifled a whine as her hands unhooked her bra lighting fast without so much as a pause in her kiss. Flat palms pushed her shirt and bra with it over her head, and after they were slung elsewhere, Asami whispered in a husked voice.

“Don’t hold back,”

Before Korra could question exactly what she meant, she was already kneeling in front of her, guiding hands once again, gentle in their insistence that Korra should recline on the sofa while she parted her legs. Her toe nudged the coffee table with the panda lilies from a weeks ago, dry and wilted still pride of place where Korra had left them.

“I thought we were using the-”

“We will,” Asami’s eyes met hers with a flash of green, stern and excited all the same, “I’m going to make you beg for it,” she told her simply, turning her head away to revisit the map of hickies she’d left before on Korra’s thigh, the landmarks that had her shaking and twitching as she ascended to the heaven between her legs. Her middle finger sliding through her wet heat as she kissed, and Korra lurched, shuddering breath escaping her at the slippery friction in those tight practiced circles. She simpered as she was parted and Asami’s tongue replaced her finger, gentle and teasing. Korra couldn’t help but cup the nape of her neck as she worked and kissed.

She was already slick and soaking. Asami wondered how long it would take to get her to drip her juices on her very expensive couch, she also knew she’d pay any money to get those sounds out of Korra again and again. As her fingers played with her entrance, her tongue laved, and suckled at glistening sensitive flesh, so slow that Korra wondered if she’ll come out of her skin at how badly she wants this. All Asami can think is how much she wants to drink every drop of her while she comes around her fingers. She can feel her thighs shaking beside her ears, her mouth finds that counter rhythm as Korra rides her chin and whispers her name into incoherence in that perfect raspy voice of hers.

There’s a decadence to the way Asami is fucking her then, relaxed but no less passionate, fingers digging into the soft swell of her hips as she paints her clit with her hot and gentle tongue. Korra listens to the sound of it, head falling back bracing on the back of the sofa. It’s then she catches their movements in the mirror and it’s an out of body experience watching her best friend’s face burrowed securely between her thighs, her hand snaking up to cup and tease her breast, and her tongue edging teasingly towards her entrance.

A flash of green looking back at her in their reflection shatters her into a thousand pieces. Somehow in her infinite wisdom Asami knew just the places to press nuzzling kisses keep her together. Following their wet path up the expanse of her body before finding home on her mouth, adjusting the angle of her face to part lips and share her flavour on her tongue. Her fingers however continued their soft strokes over her clit, and Korra could feel her heart start to race again and that steady click click click as she's carried up the next incline. She whimpered in suspense, the teasing building her up and her abdomen trembling under the weight of it. Yet she found herself stalled and waiting just before the next peak.

“ _Asami,_ ”

“You know what I want,” she murmured softly, were the circumstance different Korra would almost describe the tone as kind.

She let out a desperate laugh, spurred by the fantastical idea of what she was hearing and Asami kissed her quiet to assure her that yes, this was happening, this was real. Despite the many weeks of this it was still nice to be reminded. Korra cradled her jaw and kissed her sweetly back, before speaking the words as an incantation.

“I want you inside me,”

It was then Asami pulled back and stood straight. Korra hated the loss, until she realised Asami was fully clothed, and aimed to rectify that. She’d undressed her time after time, but watching her pull her shirt over her head, unclip her bra until it fell limp and slipped from her chest was a level of intimacy that Korra hadn’t anticipated, especially as she retained eye contact the entire time and informed her,

“I had dream, right there, my first night here,” she glanced to the spot where she’d slept with Korra at her feet. A ghost of a smile passed over her lips as she remembered, “I was kissing someone, and undressing them…it was like nothing else in the world made sense, until that exact moment…until I moaned your name,” she closed her eyes remembering, casually bare chested as the magic-hour sun lit her skin, “you shushed me and kissed me,” she opened her eyes, “I can’t ask you the same,” she shook her head, gaze fond at Korra's nude form, sweat glistening and alluring on her throat. Carding her fingers through her own hair to catch her breath.

Asami unclipped her jeans and stepped out of her boots. Plucking up the dildo she’d formerly discarded on the coffee table. Korra was in awe of her, confidently pulling the straps to with hardly an ounce of preamble. When she was close again her kiss was reverent and solemn and imbued with deep emotions Korra would take days to process. Asami could only cup the wrists that held her and absorb it all, breathless and soft.

“I love you,” Korra told her, unable to say or think anything else.

“I love you too,” Asami whispered, nodding frantically for reasons that were lost on her, “Get on your back,”

Korra did as she was told, leaning back on the arm, and biting down on any sounds that could escape as Asami’s hands parted her legs from her knees. Her thumb graced her lower lip, rolling it down, releasing her nibble.

“No more of that,” she murmured, positioning her hips, reaching between them to manipulate the head between Korra’s legs, to sink an inch where there was no friction, and Korra keened, her hands clasping her elbows tighter. “If you feel it coming, get loud,” she bowed forward to kiss her, “I want to hear you be loud,”

Korra cries out, arching back, as Asami’s dildo sinks deeper still. Asami couldn’t help but be swayed by the novelty of the act, eyes falling down to watch her movements, hypnotised as the toy disappears climbing up with each tender canter of her hips.

Korra reached up simply to touch her, hands skimming the slick of her back until she was tracing the shape of small bones along her spine. She wanted to savour and continue at that unhurried pace, yet the very image of Asami above her, breathing hard, inching closer, spurred a frantic pace that she was then desperate to give in to.

Asami was braced above her on her knees, rocking her hips with a slow pulse and watching Korra tense and unclench with the new sensation. Skin shining, eyes bright, breathing through a cute little 'o' in her parted lips and looking up at her with that newfound trust and delight. Asami felt the victory of the moment rush over her, that she had helped morph her mysterious and caged best friend into this vulnerable, plaint and free pantheon. She had the privilege of taking her completely apart, piece by piece, and Korra had the confidence to let her with a smile gracing her lips. Finally with the full length of the cock inside her, she let her legs stretch back and chased that closeness she so craves; flush against her front. Pillowy breasts pressing against her own. Building speed, she lifted her legs around her waist and thrusts harder, _faster,_ and Korra is grateful for it if her moans and unintelligible keens are anything to go by. Her lips find her neck and soon enough she’s biting, hard. Korra fists in her hair and from her pleasured moans she knows the pain is welcome in the mix.

She’s juddering, hot, and open beneath her with every thrust, arching her spine to feel the length driving into her front wall and Asami holds her through it as she rides. She uses her grip on the couch to grind and pound until her whole body writhes and freezes as though time itself has stopped. The divots on her neck deep and defined as every muscle curls exquisitely for this one perfect writhing moment. She’s hard as stone and trembling beneath her, and Asami whispers sweet nothings into her ear as her gentle thumb sends capillary waves of pleasure from the pebbled tip of her nipple. She’s on that edge, toes curling and she’s about to topple over it. Asami suckles the crook of her jaw and gives one last long slow hard thrust to make sure she’s shattered again and made whole by the indulgent swathes of Asami’s lips on her feverish skin. Over and over until she's well and truly sunk.

Korra’s too spent on the other side of her orgasm to return the favour, though she vows to. Asami never expected her to, instead she leads her on bandy legs back upstairs, clothes now a thing of the past.

She leads her instead to the bath room, and guides her between her legs in an empty bath. Letting her lie her whole exhausted weight against her as the tub fills with water that turns pink from the paint that had formerly soaked through Asami hair, her clothes and onto Korra's skin via sweat during the throes. She smiles softly down at it, and cradles Korra, her side into her front as the meniscus rises. Asami is sure she’s fallen asleep by the time she’s choked the taps, eyes closed and body sunk in a deep relaxation that Asami could only feel proud of. She plays with the stray wisps of hair at the nape of her neck and leans back to lay her own head down in the steam.

She ends up looking up at her mother’s mosaic; the mermaid that she and Korra finished together what seems like an age ago now. Black of hair, green of tail, shells embellishing her chest and neck, gazing out alluringly at the rest of the room. Korra rolls onto her back to follow her gaze, reaching up to trace the divots between tiles.

“We make a good team,” croaked, voice hoarse from crying out. Asami’s fingers traced the soft back of those calloused hands. Every fingerprint kissing Korra’s knuckles as she stroked.

“When we were making this I was putting it all together in my head - what you meant to me,” she mused.

“Now we get to enjoy it,” Korra proposed softly, “for you know some time, before I go home every day,” she joked, too weak and giddy for any bitterness to leak into the words. Still Asami tangled their fingers as though she’d been stung by them.

“Stay,”

“Til the morning?”

“No, Korra, _stay_ ,” she punctuated her point by wrapping her arm under her chest. “I’ve known you for almost fifteen years - we’re not strangers, every time you leave I miss you like crazy, _stay with me,_ ” she felt delirious with the urgency of it all, and tired, so tired of not being with her utterly and completely. Korra sat up and the distance was acute and unbearable. Asami forced herself to wait for a response. 

"You want me to move in with you?” Korra asked after an agonising silence her tone quiet and imperceptible, her expression unreadable from behind.

“You’re hesitating,” Asami deflated, “of course you’re hesitating I’m being ridiculous - it was selfish and I’m not even legally divorced yet I-”

“I’d love to,” Korra cut her off, and there was reprieve in the ecstasy in her voice before she turned to face her.

“Just like that?” Asami queried, not quite believing the speed in which Korra gave in to her next mad idea.

“I’ve been _dreaming_ of living here with you since we started this,” Korra’s smile, coupled with her thumb framing her chin, only served to twist those butterflies in Asami’s stomach into a complete frenzy. She wanted to dance with them, but she still had doubt niggling in the back of her mind. After everything they’d been through, she couldn’t bear to be the one to spoil it all.

“You’ve built your life around your shop and your _apartment_ is so beautiful; are you ready to leave that?”

“It might have escaped your notice but I’ve been building it here, now with you.” Korra sprang over the third hurdle Asami posed with a grin on her face, confident and poised and ready for anything, “And Kai’s ageing out soon, I’m sure if he’s staying in my place for free we can still visit, not to mention your father’s former lair would make a perfect studio space…not that I’ve been thinking about our lives together _here_ …too much,” Her confidence wavered in those last words as she showed her hand without the usual poker face. Asami seemed to be able to bring that out in her nowadays.

The next thing she knew she was yanked into another fierce, jubilant kiss. Slippery, toothy and clumsy, they couldn’t help but slosh the water out in the tangle but neither cared. Until Korra slipped and ended up with a face full of Asami’s sternum.

“I cant get my footing,” she laughed kissing the soapy skin she found there instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eternal Flame - Saint Sister  
> Pangea - And The Kids


	22. Share Your Address - Ben Platt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Share Your Address - Ben Platt

Asami was vaguely aware she should have been paying attention. She was inspecting the Fall line of yet to be released Satomobiles with her top executives. Today was merely a formality, a chance for the board to sneer or jeer her teams’ latest accomplishments. She’d known about the products since their inception; co signed aspects of their designs as well as witnessed the welding of their fibreglass hulls, freshly gleaming and hot to the touch. More than once she’d worked with the engineering teams in a boiler-suit and goggles through their alterations and iterations.

The illustrious, industrious CEO made a habit of having eyes on every facet of her business. This practice set her apart from the other stuffed suits that graced the Future Industries board, but as of late her gaze had begun to wander.

She’d been counting the days since laying down divorce papers in front of Iroh, and couldn’t help slipping into a state of entropy as she awaited their return; signed in triplicate by her soon to be ex. As much as Korra distracted her days, they couldn’t help but be haunted by Iroh’s spectre. Since that first stolen kiss, Asami bore her feelings more acutely than ever before, and under Iroh’s darkness Asami couldn’t shake the feeling she was at the end of a long perilous road that would repeat itself if she could not understand how the mistake had been made in the first place.

_“I’ve met someone,”_ This was three years ago. Curled on Korra’s sofa with a tub of emptied ice cream and the credits of a movie. Korra had frozen imperceptibly, dropping her hands to her lap mid-reach for the remote. Asami had been hesitant to tell her best friend the news, simply because her accident left her unable to do so many things the heiress took for granted.

Looking back Asami studied her expressions, subtle and controlled, while in the past, she’d been eager to share despite the glass in her eye and the stiffness of her jaw.

“ _What do you like about him?”_ Korra asked after a time, voice hollow. Not _who_ , or _how_ , or _when_ or even _why_? Not any of the responses Asami had expected at the time. Years later Asami was able to discern how deceptively self serving that question had been. The third Korra filed the answer away if ever she could use it while the first mustered the enthusiasm to support the one friend that refused to abandon her, despite putting up with her most excruciating moods.

Asami should have seen how telling it was that her summation was derived from nothing more than that which could be skimmed from Iroh’s surface.

“ _He’s simple,_ ”

Korra let out a laugh.

_“Is that all it takes?”_

From the moment he’d first spoken to her, nothing more occurred in her mind than his cut; a perfect silhouette. Square peg, square whole, entirely two dimensional and utterly mundane if not for the pleasant stimuli it set off in the circuit of electrodes stuffed into her brain by her father. Looking back it was obvious, but at the time all the heartbreaks had numbed her so and it made sense to keep it that way; simple and unfeeling. A lifelong veritable _fake it till you make it._

_“No I mean, we met at a gala, and he asked for a drink and a dance and he can hold a conversation which in those circles is surprising… on paper we work. He feels safe you know?”_

Korra had watched her, eyes dim, lips a flat line now, brows drawn. Asami, in the moment, felt studied.

_“Is that all it takes?”_ There was a sadness this time, but Asami couldn’t hear it until the question was once again spoken and echoed through the annals of her history.

_“It’s early days,”_ Asami had shrugged, outstretched feet kneading softly against Korra’s knelt calf on the opposite end of the couch. “ _I just wanted to tell you because it feels like he’ll be around for some time_ ,” she recalled the wine she’d chosen was a bitter sweet flavour and all these years the tang of the tannins returned to her. Had she the capacity to feel emotion beyond numbness and empathy, Asami was sure she should have been blushing, “ _and nothing out there feels real until I can share it with you,_ ”

_What a perfectly misguided thought…_ Asami mused, eyes honing in on Opal’s wide and questioning, doing everything bar waving her hand in front of her face to get her to focus.

“What do you think Miss Sato?” The nasally voice of her colleague finally filtered through. Asami’s gaze snapped back to her assistant’s helplessly, and from behind the suits Opal mouthed what looked like _say yes!_

_“Yes,”_ Asami nodded.

“Fantastic, then these we’ll push for release ahead of Cabbage Corps announcement at the end of the week.”

“Mhmm,” Asami pursed her lips, feigning a smile and a fair amount of pageantry with her eyes as they took to talking amongst themselves, meandering in their gaggle to fill the silence with half related anecdotes about the cars in front of them. In the mean time, Opal stepped closer, arms folded over her clip board and files.

"Any reason you’re daydreaming there, boss?”

“It’s nothing, just, residual guilt,”

“Hey now, what did we say about worrying about the past?”

“I can’t change it now, and if I worry too much you will quote, ‘ _slap the sorry’_ out of me,”

“You’re forgetting the _you owe Iroh nothing,_ and _Korra loves the pants off of you._ Seriously, anyone who sees you knows you’re in a good place. We haven’t seen you this happy since, well I don’t think I’ve ever seen you happy,”

Asami ram-rod boardroom spine softened at the notion. It had never occurred to her that her friends had noticed how numb she was, yet in the aftermath it was so obvious. They had been _waiting_ for her to show herself **,** and loose the primped polished facade she deigned to show the world. Her fingers turned the silver ring on her left hand as she mused, truthfully,

“I know, I just - if I’m not careful I finally have something real to lose,”

“You are more likely to lose your company than you are Korra, which is to say it is very hard to lose Korra, _but…_ you should try and figure out a way to stay in the room or you might y’know, lose your company,” Opal teased and Asami smirked at her. “Perhaps if I schedule in longer lunches so you can go home to her and…reminisce?”

“If we weren’t at work I’d hug you right now,” Asami smiled wryly.

“Roger, I’ll schedule in a hug for _oh six hundred_ ,” Opal flipped open their schedule.

“What’s next?” Asami laughed, taking a minute to admire the automobiles beside them. She couldn’t help but compare to her father’s last work that she’d so happily eviscerated. Much had changed since Hiroshi Sato’s era of pollution vomiting muscle cars hit the streets, Asami’s own designs endeavoured to be carbon neutral, sleek and sophisticated. The harsh black and red colours replaced by alluring teals and blues, as captivating as a curling wave. The Siren of the Sato era. _I’ll have to write that down._

“We have three more meetings this afternoon, marketing wants sign off on the new ads, and this came for you,” Opal slid a pale envelope from her pile, stiff and gleaming with URGENT emblazoned across the cover. Asami stomach dropped at the Republic City Penitentiary emblem she was all too familiar with thanks to her father. This package remained the same shape and size of one she’d held there before, exactly forty seven days ago.

Shaking hands tore open the top and she did her best not to crumple or tear the pages inside as she lifted them.

Signed. In triplicate.

A note affixed to the front bearing familiar handwriting.

_Is this what forgiveness looks like?_

“Is it?” Opal pressed, guessing from her facial expressions alone.

“It is,” Asami breathed, heart pounding loudly she could scarcely hear her own voice. When her eyes clashed with Opal’s that aforementioned happiness was eclipsed by this; a grin that threatened to split her face and a laugh that brought tears to the corners of her eyes even as she held them back.

“Go, tell her,” Opal urged, “I’ll cover for you,”

Despite her vow Opal hadn’t expected the immediacy with which her boss would respond to such a pledge. She watched her in rush an elegant flash, heels clipping loudly throughout the warehouse as she ran to the nearest newest Satomobile, ripping open the door and turning the engine to over with a roar.

The board watched aghast as she took off, tyres squealing urgently on the linoleum as she made for the open garage door. They then turned their astonished gazes to Opal for explanation.

“Miss Sato is taking a car for a guerrilla marketing sneak peak!” she lied, and lied well, “We just go the go-ahead from Branding, isn’t it exciting?” after a moment of tense silence, she added, “Why don’t we all take one for a drive?” and she watched as these staunch businesspeople's grumblings subsided into child like excitement.

****

It had been a while since Korra had found a groove like this in her working day. Admittedly she was playing a lot of catch up; she hadn’t expected an affair to be such a time suck.

She couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but she was sure all her eureka moments of late had something to do with candle lit dinners and mornings with coffee and laughter and Asami’s uncanny ability to lure her back into bed. For the first time in a long time, she felt inspired.

Headphones on, tools singing, her creations came to life more vibrant and intricate than ever. 

Korra ran her fingers over the crevices of her latest work in progress; the moon goddess Yue afloat in garlands of ribbons, waves and royal dress. Her high cheek bones and pert lips inspired by a certain CEO, whom at that very moment was gently tugging Korra’s headphones back and turning her head palm to cheek.

“Asami wha-hmm,” Korra had gotten better in the passing weeks at just _going with it,_ angling her head to return the heated kiss Asami had so insisted on surprising her with on a Wednesday afternoon. Between misted breaths Asami let out a sound that was both a sob and an exultation all at once, and Korra caught it before cradling the nape of her neck to train her gaze.

“What happened?” Korra pressed, concern giving way to this frantic hopeful aura beaming out of her girlfriend.

“I’m _divorced_ ,” all the weary in her gaze lifted at those two words. Held inside, aching to bust out until she could share this with her. Weightless, she clung to Korra’s elbows, fingers knotting in her sleeves and crumpling the sheets of quite an important document.

“You’re what?” Korra breathes, blinking owlishly. Head on high from the dizzying kiss combined with a line word for word lifted from one of her daytime fantasies.

Despite best efforts, she hadn’t forgotten the circumstances that tainted their relationship. The bitter was always overpowered by the sweet. Still, they couldn’t escape solemn reminders at the edges of their bliss. A bullet shaped scar she kissed night after night before cradling Asami to sleep for one. The way they both winced at a back firing car, another. The ritual practice that came against every reminder that he had lived where Asami now lived; painting over it room by room. His clothes and possessions and tchotchke’s packed out of sight to make space for Korra. The promise that one day the work would be done, and there’d be nothing but smooth sailing.

Korra knew Asami longed to make good on that promise, and it started by making it official.

“ _Divorced_ , it’s legal, Iroh signed the papers, it’s over - _Korra, I’m free_ ,” Asami spoke slowly, watching her stunned expression shift as it all dawned on her. This was good. This was _very_ good.

She always recited a mantra that paper could hold no power over truth in their hearts; yet to hear the words say finally _out loud_ had her burying her face in Asami’s hair and inhaling deep the scent of honeyed jasmine.

_“I’m so proud of you.”_ Korra whispered.

“I didn’t-”

“ _You did,_ ” Korra clutched her closer, and Asami’s fingers curled into her shirt, the fleecy flannel soft and worn twisting supple beneath her palms. Another denying response trapped in her throat as she let herself be cradled standing and off kilter.

“Hey Korra do you mind if I borrow your chainsaw?” Kai bungled into the room in a cataclysm of excitement that had the two flinching apart. Oddly enough his hair was singed and apron smeared with black charcoal from whatever experiment he was partaking in outside. Were it any other day Asami would have been fascinated by this, as it was she was more preoccupied by the feeling of lipstick displaced as far as her earlobe.

“Sure buddy,” Korra murmured dazed. Now under the lamplight Asami could see she was only mildly debauched and too enamoured with her to care. “Carve it up,” she continued, admiring her handiwork, thumbing away a particularly obvious kiss print on Asami’s jaw. Luckily her blush had started to match the colour.

“Asami hey! I’ve been meaning to thank you for asking Korra to move in with you, so, you know, I can have her place.” he teased, taming the sparks out of his hair.

“I should thank you for letting me steal your boss,” Asami tried her best to remain demure and unflappable, a sheer impossibility given Korra’s hands grip her hip with a subtle possessiveness. It takes every inch of will power not to retaliate with a kiss.

“By all means, steal away,” he smirked at them, and rifled through Korra’s tool cupboard to pull out a chainsaw bigger than he was.

“Well we have permission,” Asami whispered with a wry smile, nimble fingers weaving playfully with Korra’s hair, “shall we go upstairs?”

Asami hadn’t yet seen Korra’s apartment in its boxed state, piled high, bare boned, even her beloved running machine flattened and pushed to the edge of the empty oak floor. Cool daylight poured in through thick curtains, but from the doorway the pair were warm, tucked away in shadow. All its lustre had been squared away and packed up, ready for the move to a big old empty house that sorely needed it. High heels echoed, circling back through the empty space, step by step as she took a minute to admire the memories in each corner.

Making pancakes with Korra in the kitchen. Playing with her hair while she slept on Asami on the couch. Tipsy board games for girls nights in. Korra releasing her of golden clasps after leaving Iroh. Dancing in the dark the first night back from the hospital.

Korra watched her silently, certain that her path would sure find its nebulous way back. In an odd way it felt like her best friend was giving thanks to her old apartment, and even odder how in the moment it made absolute sense.

Turning back to face Korra, she’s endeared by that same nervous tic as she squeezes the back of her neck, caught watching. Under her gaze she transforms with the times, smiling shyly, blue eyes crinkling with such warmth and fondness that makes Asami’s stomach swoop. _How could I ever miss this before?_ Tears prick behind her eyes, and something heavy and nourishing fills her chest, higher and higher as she crosses the gap she’s inadvertently placed between them.

“We- _I_ have champagne in the fridge- that’s if you want to celebrate, we don’t have to, we can just-” the last word is captured in the firm press of Asami’s lips. They curl against each other out of sheer _relief,_ as though their bodies had been aching to be returned together in their natural pose. It’s gentle, and soft, and _oh so_ slow. Chaste with barest hint of tongue. Asami unfurls her grip on the papers that flurry to their feet to cradle Korra’s face against her own.

These are her favourite kinds of kisses, the ones that build to breathlessness until the only thing keeping her on this earth is Korra’s grip on her clothes.

“Hurry up and move in with me already,” she laments.

“It’s pretty hard to pack sleeping over at your place every night,” Korra teases back.

“I was very clear when we were making the bed - I would need your help to _break it in,”_

“ _Dilemma_ ,” Korra’s grinning against her lips and its all Asami can do but to trace the edges of it as her chest flutters.

“I have so much I want to say to you,” she shakes her head, already lost to the need to kiss and kiss and _kiss_ her in thanks, “Will you let me show you?” voice shaking as if there’s the slightest chance she’ll say no.

“Bedroom?” Korra grasps her waist.

“No, _here_ ,” Asami takes her wrists and pins them hard against the door. Korra chuckles at the move, deliriously wondering if she’d fallen into an elaborate daydream. The irony isn’t lost on her; being pressed against the door jamb with the intent of ravaging her, roles reversed. Like she means to end the affair the way they started it; that Asami’s been conspiring to pay homage ever since and _god_ it makes her feel so wanted.

Already Asami is sinking soft bites and kitten licks to her pulse. Peeling her plaid shirt off her shoulders. Her fingers tap the silver button atop Korra’s jeans, thumb and forefinger slowly coaxing them apart as she takes a moment to watch her pupils dilate; eclipsing her baby blues.

Korra feels the thrum of her lithe body change gear above her; separated only by a few layers of work appropriate attire. Asami’s breath comes out fractured and her eyes fall to her lips. Korra can only nod, bowing forward to kiss her with fervency. Free hand clasping the nape of her neck to tug her closer, lips parting, tasting her mouth and the sweet sigh she gifts against her until they swell and push into something hot and deep. Asami’s hand slides effortlessly under the hem of lace and cotton. Her middle digit tilts searching for those wet sounds between lower lips, coating her fingers in her silken juices that already have her _salivating_.

Korra is more aware of the precision with which Asami is circling her clit than she is the desperate noises she’s making. She is caught and captured and all she can do is tell her how _good_ she feels. Knees buckle from the zips of unbridled pleasure and Asami’s body braces her against the wood her neck forming a tender cushion as her fingers stroke recklessly.

Her hold shifts, adjusting with a minor flex of her athleticism Asami keeps her upright as she descends. Tugging Korra’s vest down in search of a nipple she’s suddenly wants nothing more than to suckle wetly. Korra’s arching into the pressure, eyes falling down to the molten gaze staring up at her. It’s then she knows Asami loves every part of her, fingers gracing the scars and the sponge at her hip, combing through the small thatch of coarse hair at her mound like she’s missed it all. She presses a kiss over her sternum; the start of a path they’ve both come to know so well, and they know what happens next.

She’s tugging apart Korra’s zipper, and before she knows what she’s doing Korra’s hand breaks free to her nape, pushing her down and where she desperately needs her.

Asami descends to her knees in a pressed fitted suit and pencil skirt without breaking the rhythm of her fingers on Korra’s clit, pulsing and slick and already embarrassingly wet. Korra braces a hand on the empty bookshelf beside them like she knows what’s coming, eyes clamped shut in ecstasy, vaguely aware of Asami tugging her jeans down, of her sliding her foot out of a boot just to manoeuvre it over her shoulder.

When Asami can lick her thigh, she kisses so ardently that it throws Korra, the breath she’s holding pouring out of her riled and shattered. At least until she sinks her teeth, causing her hips to buck.

“ _Oh God,”_ is all Korra can coherently say until the hot wet muscle of her tongue finally swirls through her swollen centre. Delicate fingers still glistening dig into the meat of her thigh. Korra can’t help grind and cup her where she needs her as three hot fingers enter her slow and _stretching_. She writhes with it, feeling the fullness, the friction, the _pull,_ as Asami’s pumping builds speed and her tongue flutters expertly over her clit, drawing patterns, then painting swathes until eventually Korra is grinding uncontrollably into her chin. Asami moans approvingly, curling her digits, every lave and kiss sending her twitching as her body wracks with pleasure. Korra’s pretty sure she’s spelling out _I love you’s_ with her tongue.

Her head is bobbing under Korra’s hand to meet her rhythm and her arm wraps under her thigh to brace them both until Korra’s coming into her mouth. Before Korra can wonder how she is this strong on her knees, she’s falling into another orgasm, head bent back, voice hoarse with her name and a litany of curses. She’s loud, not because she wants the world to hear it, but because right now there’s no other way to be. Asami coaxes her and coaxes her until Korra’s feet are off the ground and her heels are digging into her back as if they’re doing this lying down. Asami keeps her upright and safe and juddering through each stroke.

Korra has to use the fingers fed though Asami’s, still pretty elegant, up-do ponytail to tug. With just as much care and skill, Asami guides her shaking legs back down without stopping her ministrations; her tongue becomes less pointed, laving her softly while her fingers stroke in and out for the love of it alone. When she looks up at her, green eyes bright and playful, Korra’s smile threatens to break her face. Apparently that’s all it takes to bring Asami to her feet so she can kiss it too.

“How do you look so put together and I just..?” Korra gestures at her now thoroughly debauched self, vest and bra tugged down to settle at her hips where her jeans are no longer. One boot on, and already a litany of mouth shaped bruises on her throat, chest and stomach.

Asami looks as perfect as when she walked in, say for Korra’s juices still shining on her chin, which to Korra still looks pretty damn perfect. Asami only smiles and sweeps errant tendrils of hair out of her face, while the other hand, she dips the three fingers that had been inside Korra between her lips and licks them clean. Finally, she unclasps a single button of her suit.

_I dare you._

Korra cups her jaw and retaliates with a fierce kiss. The race is on, although Korra is at a serious disadvantage, she manages to rip apart those buttons and of the blouse underneath before Asami’s finished her off; unclasping and flinging her bra into the empty room and using her own foot to slip Korra’s out of her last shoe.

Korra takes that personally.

Hooking her hands under her thighs and hauling her to the kitchen island. A part of her knows she’s lost, so her palm cups and squeezes Asami’s breast under lace to circumvent her desperate need to touch her. All the while Asami never stops kissing her mouth, hot and open with too much tongue to stop now as fingers tangled in her hair and clawing a path down Korra’s sculpted back. Asami whimpers as her fingers pluck and her mouth fails to work. She’s enthralled by the hand sliding up her skirt, wedging between her thighs that until this point had been gliding together, full and slick with every step. She loses the red lacy bralette first, but instead of struggling with the skirt Korra pulls her flush so their hips meet at the edge of the counter. Asami’s legs wrap around her waist, and the skirt has already ridden up so she’s exposed, and _god,_ she can feel Korra’s index finger wrap the soaked fabric of her panties around itself before gliding over her swollen slit.

“You’re so wet,” only serves to make her wetter by Korra’s husked voice, hoarse and quiet from crying out. Asami kisses the juncture of her neck and ear, and all she can say is all she can think as she wraps her arms securely around Korra’s upper back.

“ _I love you_ ,”

The response is immediate and she’s so grateful Korra doesn’t tease her because her two fingers are already inside her, pumping and curling and pressing that itch of a g spot without preamble. Asami braces her forehead over Korra’s and she’s staring into that beautiful stoic gaze that’s almost too powerful to look at directly. _I love you, I always have._

“I love you too,” she tells her, and Asami laughs wetly, kissing her and repeating _I love yous_ directly over her lips.

She comes like a freight train, too soon and too hard for how quickly Korra’s been working her but she’s heightened and trembling and by now Korra knows her body so well it shouldn’t surprise her when it hits her this fast. Asami also knows; she’s not done.

She’s still coming down and returning feeling to her toes when Korra’s unzipping the invisible lining of her skirt and shucking it from her hips, calm and reverent. Next to go are her panties, soaked and useless. Asami lays back on the island to raise her hips to Korra can take them, and kiss her thigh and calf as they trail down. She doesn’t sit up as she watches her girlfriend work her way to her ankles while she catches her breath.

There’s a stillness in the parting of their bodies that finally allows the sounds of the rest of the world filter in. The quiet hum of the streetlamp out side and cars passing. Kai’s music, now unplugged from his headphones and blaring well above a safe decibel, no doubt to cover the moans from upstairs. She can feel the thrum of bass in the soft of her thighs through the floors. Korra searches the boxes around her nonchalantly and nude and she pulls up a lighter one simply marked _FUN._

She lifts a tangle of straps and blue silicone, smooth and thick and slightly curved. Asami watches with fascination as Korra fastens the straps and suddenly its like she never came at all. Just the idea of what’s to happen has her panting with desire, has her imagining what it’d be like to take the inches up into her mouth and watch Korra’s reaction. Those thoughts, flexing muscles and working fingers, spreads her knees for her and moves her hand until her fingers are stroking little circles over her own clit. The wet noises pique Korra’s gaze and she pauses, mesmerised by the dancerly motion of her wrist as Asami touches herself shamelessly. Three fingers swiping defy at a pink stiff clit. Eyes meet and the moment is shared and even though they’re a few feet apart it’s as intense as if Korra was inside her, and strangely it’s _getting her there_. She’s already close again, and Korra knows it from the sound. Asami gasps, and keens and they’re powerless to stop what comes next as she arches and Korra closes the distance, leaning over her to kiss her until the writhing stops.

Korra says nothing, but takes the hand from between Asami’s legs to lick her fingers and cradle them to her cheek. Wordlessly Asami tugs at her elbow, and she climbs atop her on the table, hooking her fingers beneath her knees to part her legs about her hips.

From a pocket on the strap on her hip Korra places a remote, small and plastic, in Asami’s fingers.

“Hold this,” she instructs and Asami holds it up.

“What’s is it?” in response Korra takes her free hand and slides it around the member.

“Click it,” Asami’s thumb pushes the little dial to the first setting, and lo and behold Korra’s dildo thrums to life, vibrating gently into her hand.

_“Oh my god,”_

“I told you I’d pay you back,” Korra’s already stroking her wet heat tenderly.

_"With interest,”_ Asami’s not sure if she says it or thinks it, all she knows know is Korra’s tongue is in her mouth and her fingers are parting her and _dipping,_ as her hips align the silicone at the edge her glistening pink. Korra’s fingers skim her slick wetness, guiding the head in place. She slides inside her slow and easy, she’s already so slippery that there’s next to no friction. Her hips start to canter at a leisurely pace. Korra’s lips stray to her throat to bite softly; laving the sweetness percolating through her sweat like she can’t get enough of her taste. Over her shoulder Asami catches a glimpse of those gorgeous back muscles, her shoulder blades arching like geometric wings as her arms clutch her tight, lifting her from the surface. The dildo sinks ever deeper and as though in tandem her eyes roll back into her skull as it fills her. The loss when she pulls back is almost too agonising to bear. Asami’s legs curl around her, crossing her ankles behind her coccyx. Soon enough her hands splay on Korra’s jaw and the slick behind her neck to train her gaze, and Korra knows what she’s going to say before she says it.

“ _Don’t hold back,_ ” before she can finish Korra tugs on her hips and repositions her, bracing herself with a hand tight on the edge of the counter that she’s truly grateful is cemented to the wall. The blue eyes gazing down at her are ardent, and reverent, as Korra braces herself above her. She kisses her tenderly, tracing a path from her throat to her mouth, combing her fingers through Asami’s locks and cradling her jaw, before giving in to desperate grinding, finally using her core strength to drive the cock into her and pound at a savage pace. It’s all Asami can to do hold on, crossing her arms behind her neck as she’s fucked hard and fast and seemingly effortlessly into the cool tile of Korra’s breakfast nook. Asami loves every second of it. Arching beneath her to meet her pace, striving for that common goal as her breasts press against hers. Korra is unselfconscious, daring, completely supporting her one-handed while Asami clings on to the ride of her life. Asami’s sure she’s _dripping_ at the precision of her rhythm. Her thumb rolling the dial up and up like it's morphine and she’s been _destroyed_.

In the eye of the storm Korra looks at her serene, entranced, and traces her thumb across her lower lip in such a way that in any other scene would be desperately romantic. Asami finds herself suckling that thumb and eliciting a jolt of sharp enthralling electricity; as above, connected below. She can’t keep that level of power inside much longer. She keens and _god she’s so close_.

“I’ve got you,” Korra tells her, lifting her legs around her to let the throbbing length stroke her front wall. Asami’s bowing from the pressure and releases her thumb to take her mouth, her tongue seeking hers laving carelessly against one other.

The first of a long line of climaxes swathes over her and her breaths rush out of her like she can’t quite catch them. The previous peak comes hand in hand with the next and it’s like they’re falling off a cliff dragging each other along over and over. She is lost to multiples upon multiples that are awe inspiring, exquisite and just fucking _overwhelming_. Even Korra can tell her inner walls are clenching hard on the member inside her as it vibrates and leaves her quivering beneath her. She slowly trades force and speed for depth and rhythm. Asami meets her gaze with a tender look and tears escaping from her eyes. Her lower lip shakes, and Korra has the good sense for trace her knuckles along the side of her temple and carry her through.

_How could I do this with anyone else but you?_ Asami thinks, but hasn’t the capacity to speak the words aloud. Instead she tugs her down into and honest kiss, tender and chaste.

She thinks that Korra will roll off her, that this is the end and she dreads it. Instead she’s lifted by those strong arms, mounted on her lap without the strap so much as sliding out of her. Korra has her on her knees and her grip on her hips is firm and guiding, almost oscillating her strokes. Asami bows forward and kisses her clumsily and laughs and sobs and smiles at her. Korra’s arms fit secure against her back so that they’re flush and she smooshes her cheek against Korra’s shoulder because she knows she’ll carry her. It’s the most intimate with she’s ever been with another human soul. Her fingers skim the tears on Korra’s cheeks and she knows the feeling is mutual.

Asami comes one last time, and it’s gentle, her back straightening and head arching back, knees flexing so she sits higher than Korra, and Korra holds her upright and keeps her from toppling over while she’s reaches the heavens.

When she’s done she slumps spent and spineless. Korra catches her with both arms. They lay side by side, legs curled up into each other to keep their balance on the table that strangely they had no problem with earlier. Asami weakly tugs and helps Korra remove the straps and buckles until she can pull her flush by her side, and pillow her head on her shoulder.

For a while no-one speaks, it’s comfortable as it’s always been and safe and Asami watches in the fading light that drying sweat painted glistening on Korra’s skin.

“I didn’t think your breakfast nook could hold two people,” she muses tickling patterns over Korra’s clavicle.

“I’m glad I didn’t move out without truly knowing this place,” Korra states quite plainly, and like they both devolve into laughter like the two old friends they are.

****

Opal severely underestimated the level of work she’d be left with when her boss took off. She’d made a lot of important decisions today; decisions that were usually reserved for whatever genius decision Asami had in that magnificent noodle of hers. All of which _could_ have a litany of grave consequences if not made correctly. Asami had asked her to _cover for her,_ not evaporate on one of the most important days of the corporate calendar and leave Opal out of her depth.

Well Asami left her in this shit creek with half a paddle and if she didn’t like the results she could go fu-

“YAGH!” Korra’s apprentice had come around the corner of the work shop cradling an ice swan.

At the sight of Opal, he dropped it.

It slipped through his gloves and fell to the ground after spinning upside down so it could be crushed neck first. They stared at it and deaf to anything that wasn’t Metallica, Kai was oddly calm looking down at the shattered ice clumps at his feet. This wasn’t his first drop scare rodeo.

“Kai _have you seen my boss?_ ” Opal yelled over the din of the music but he still couldn’t hear her. He waved her in and she went on “She left work a while ago and she got some news, and I just came to check if she was alright?” she explained unaware that he still couldn’t hear her until he’d led her to the radio. She watched as he took a moment to prepare himself, close his eyes and take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out, before turning the dial.

She heard Korra first, and thanks to the gym Opal knew exactly whom the other voice the moans and keens belonged to.

“ _Oh_ my _God not again,_ ” she winced and jumped for the dial, now thankful for the wailing guitars and pounding drums. _How can you think of pounding at a time like this?_

_“Has this been going on the whole time?”_

“Pretty much,” Kai responded with something of a thousand yard stare in his eyes.

“It’s been three hours!” Opal mouthed mostly to herself to which Kai shrugged,

“The only things left up there are the bed and the couch, should be easy enough to bleach.”

“You’re going to have to burn them both.” she regarded him, rosy cheeked and riddled with awkward energy. “Wanna go get some ice cream?” she offered.

“I gotta go make another swan,” Kai informed her, cranking the dial up to a hundred.

***

There was only one way to replenish after a marathon of fucking after one’s divorce - eating ice cream and drinking champagne from the bottle on Korra’s kitchen floor. They sat in the cool glow of the fridge passing a tub of Double Fudge Swirl back and forth while adding an amuse-bouche of fruit from the tray Korra’s vegetable crisper. A cloud of cool air pooled over Asami’s side and Korra’s back as they leaned against the open door, legs overlapping. Korra had donned her shorts and open flannel and nothing else, and Asami had borrowed boyshorts and a long sleeve from Korra’s half-packed clothing.

Korra’s eyes are on her for a perceptively long time, fallen quiet and sucking on her spoon as she finally started to deduce.

“You’re free now,” Korra whispers, “so I guess it’ll be a while before anyone can trap you again?” she intended to be teasing, smirking, poking her spoon her way to make her point, but as soon as the errant thought leaves her lips with wishes she could stuff it back into her mouth. Asami's legs draped over hers tense beneath her palm. “That was a bad joke I don’t know why I said…“ the way she’s looking at her now, has her voice shrinking in her throat.

“Love is not a trap,” Korra’s heart skips as her cool hand graces her cheek, “This could never be a trap.” Asami hands her back the tub and Korra almost drops it.

“I think-I meant-”

“I know what you meant,” Asami croons.

“You don’t,” Korra found herself wincing. In a single snap, tension writhes in the air. Bliss could only contain her long litany of erroneous doubts for so long. Coupled with those reminders of Iroh, were the anxieties that still weighed upon her, smaller and more manageable in recent days, but still enough to surprise her with their spike even now. Asami hadn’t been with her for so long during their friendship, and as much as it had changed Korra often wondered if it would ever change back. If she could let it.

“Korra-“

“Sometimes I wonder what you see in me if not a way out?” again she wishes she can keep it all inside and let it fester for longer. After she says it it sits like a brick between them, and Korra thinks it’s the worst thing she’s ever done.

“Kay, it’s okay you can breathe now,” but she can’t because Asami’s eyes are full of sorrow. _I should’ve been married to you._ She can’t bring herself to say it, the words trap and twist somewhere in that elegant neck. “This is complicated, I get it, with or without our history, _I’d want you this way_ ,”

To make her point hit home, she cups Korra’s cheek and guides her pained gaze. Asami knew her best friend well enough to know this was coming, and she hoped her girlfriend would believe her when she said,

“I know I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. I need you to hear this Korra, because this is important - I am _not_ replacing him with _you_. He never compared. He was simple and you’re-”

“ _Complicated_.” Korra parroted quietly.

“ _Magnificent_ ,” Asami cradled her face now, “My life is so much better now. So full. It’s like…” Asami stopped to think, though so many analogies failed her at that very moment, “It’s like was blind before and now - you’re like those colours only lobsters can see.”

“ _What_?” victory was Korra’s dimpled cheeks erupting in delighted laughter, then.

“Humans have three colour receptors.” Asami balked, “Lobsters have twelve,” twisting her fingers, “ _I didn’t know things could be this good_ ,”

“That is the goofiest, _nerdiest_ , thing you’ve ever said to me,”

“Oh God have _I_ ruined this?”

“No I love it,” Korra sniffled, brows arching inward, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” Asami softened. “Try to remember that,” Korra nodded slightly.

“Tell me how you’re feeling right now,” Korra closes her eyes to keep from distraction, but allows Asami’s fingers to thread and cling to her own.

_“Free,”_ Asami breathes and Korra can finally hear her smile, “Connected,” she tucks between the open seams of her shirt and strokes over her heart, “The world is still and I can _breathe_ finally.” her voice shakes, like it’s hard to let the truth out despite how _happy_ it makes her, “I haven’t been myself for so long, and I couldn’t because of all work that had to be done to even see it, but _you brought me back._ ” she says it with such affection and openness in a way she never heard when they were just best friends. There’s so much love in her gaze that it actually floods Korra’s brain with endorphins.

“So you’re ready to start over with me?” Korra crooned gently, no doubt in her tone, only excitement.

“We’ve already started,” Asami reminds her airily, watching those eyes open and truly take her in, and that grin, slow and easy, grow across her lips.

Asami toasts the bottle Korra had bought for Kai, and Asami thinks happily of how she’ll have to replace it. She had some Dom Peringon lying around some where that he could have a case of…

****

Within the week Korra _lives_ with her, and Asami worried that with so much uninterrupted time they’d become less fascinated, that the magic would fade and she’d be invading the freedom Korra so craved. Still, the weeks ticked by, and it’s everything Asami could ever hope for. Even if Korra leaves her laundry in odd piles and had an aversion to doing the dishes without her. It was all worth it to have her curled snug against her back night after night. Even something as simple bringing her soup in bed when she was sick was a life affirming moment. They never fell apart, in fact; every day brought a new reason that proved her worries wrong.

One night Asami comes home late, and she crawls into bed behind Korra. It’s the beginning of a decadent, glorious, routine that includes simply undressing to her undergarms and warming her notoriously cold feet between Korra’s calves. Still ever dutiful in her heating commitment, even half asleep Korra squeezes them. Today was particularly bitter, Asami had lost feeling in her extremities, and although a voice nagged in her mind that this was cruel, a large part of her craved the attention, and more importantly _the_ _heat_.

She crept her deft icy hand into Korra’s t-shirt, reaching over her from behind to press against those impeccable abs. Korra sucked in a sharp wincing breath, although true to form, no complaints were made. Instead she reached into her own shirt to catch Asami’s palm and warm her knuckles. Asami’s body sinks softly into her at the gesture; another successful _evil_ mission. She tucks her face into the crook of Korra’s neck and curls her body languishingly with hers in the tangle of the bed.

As she settles in for what is sure to be a cosy night, Korra tugs again on her hand so it slips between her oblique and the mattress, encouraging a deeper kind of cuddle that makes Asami’s heart do that special _ba bump._ She barely notices she’s pinching her sleeve and thumbing the familiar soft ridged material.

“You’re wearing my henley.” Korra says softly, voice a warm sleepy husk that Asami wishes that she could crawl into and be bathed in its echo forever.

“Am I supposed to know what that is?” she feigns innocence with a teasing smirk at the edge of her lips.

“My shirt, that you're wearing, that you _thieved_ ,” Without looking Korra knows what’s hers.

“I _borrowed_ ,”

Korra turns her head to catch a glimpse of the thief, bright eyes narrowed, lips smirking.

“When did you take it? I haven’t seen it in a week,” she’s smiling adorably crooked as her wakefulness catches up to her.

“I put it on under my clothes this morning,” Asami utters, yawning, dipping her nose behind her shoulder as she hides from the scrutiny.

“Has it been washed?”

“If I washed your clothes before I wore them; stealing them at all would be pointless,”

“Asami Sato - you’re secretly _gross!_ ”

“Shut up,” Asami shoves her, although with trapped arms she’s only really able to accomplish a hip to bum scenario without really creating any distance.

“But I stink! Why on earth would you want my sweaty clothes on under your three thousand yuan _suits_?” Korra cackles softly, running her warm palm over the length of Asami’s forearm, and revelling in the tactile synaesthesia from the supple bumps and ridges lighting up her fingertips.

“It’s actually losing its Korra-stink, so I have to re-up on it,” to make her point she draws her legs back from Korra’s to turn and mount her. Not anticipating a display that level of strength at this late hour Korra reaches out to catch and balance her legs, but being entirely unprepared, her hands end up cradling her ass. Asami settles into the crook of her hip, victorious in her ambush.

“You can’t be serious,” Korra tries to rebuff, thoroughly pinned, but she can’t help butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach. Above her Asami’s quiet, in the place of flippant, yet charming, comeback, she says,

“Most days,” her voice is achingly earnest, "it’s just me, or just me and Opal, or just me and Opal and the board, who I could care less about what I wear so long as I look the part and honestly - my day is less _lonely_ if i can smell you near okay?”

“I um…” Korra’s speechless, the butterflies swarming in her throat to keep her from saying anything _stupid_. She sometimes wondered if her love for Asami could be too intense, but here she was, mad feelings reflected. “Yeah okay,” She gulps, nodding.

Asami sinks into her then, long body curling and knees clamping hips gently as she cuddles into Korra’s shoulder. Korra can’t breathe, not because of the weight atop her but punctures of her intent. For once her emotions are at the opposite end of the spectrum; heart cracked open and bleeding sunshine. It’s then she realises quite sharply, that she’s never felt this loved before.She’s never shared in the quiet cherished moments at the end of a day; pockets of reflection and intimacy that one night stands could never hope for.

It feels like she’s entered into the next level without even realising such a thing was possible. This wasn’t the first time in as many days a revelation as quintessential as this had come along, and each time she stumbled upon one it hit just as hard.

“Are you _crying_?” Asami feels the tickle of it on her ear for a moment, and pulling back she can see the streaks of it on Korra’s temples seeping into her hair.

“It’s nothing go to sleep,“ but the crack in her voice gives her away. Asami’s already sitting up.

“Oh Gosh I’m sorry, I didn’t think- I can give it back, _here_ ,”

“No stop, it’s okay,” Korra catches her hands before she can yank the shirt over head. Asami watches her as she struggles with the onslaught of tears and _smiling_. It’s all she can do but to swipe at them softly with the pads of her thumbs. “You keep it…I mean give it back and you can take it after I…”

“ _Deal_ ,” she kisses her temple and feels her body chuckle beneath her.

“You really love me, huh?”

“More than anything,” Asami says it and it sounds so simple, crooned so softly into her shoulder like she’s about to sleep there. Korra combs her silken tendrils through her fingers and scritches her scalp as if she’s about to let her. 

Asami never thought buying a bed would prove such a worthwhile investment. Every day a new memory, of soft, of cosy, of _sleepy_ Korra, just for her. That adorable pout and those sloth like cuddles. Asami wondered how she ever made it through a day at work without those arms to go back to.

Not that she was getting much sleep, what with Korra keeping her up until 3am some nights. For the most part they can no longer help themselves, every day she discovers something new about Korra that just _does_ it for her. Korra stepping out of the shower, a glistening Adonis in search of a towel. Korra stroking her fingers in cyclical patterns over her stomach while she reads. Korra smiling at her open and full of love whenever she enters a room. Korra naked knees spread, face pressed into the pillow as Asami fucks her from behind with piston like precision. Korra asking her to _please god_ sit on her face so she can ride her mouth, another reason a bed with a headboard was such a fine investment.

It’s habit forming, spotting openings and taking them. Even small talk when Korra’s crawling in bed behind her becomes a challenge neither can resist.

“Hmm, I like you spooning behind me,” Asami had mused one night reaching behind her to tuck Korra’s arm over her abdomen “you’re like my little short jet pack,”

“Ah ha - Fuck you!” Korra had laughed and it’s pathetically simple, but Asami’s throat goes dry and all of a sudden she can’t think of anything else. So she’s dragging Korra’s hands to her wet heat between her legs until she’s arching back into her as those honeyed lips bite her neck.

Even when they’re apart it was all she could think about. When the clock strikes five, the CEO of Future industries could be seen bolting to her car to race home without fail. On a particular evening, after Asami had faced down the flashes a press event in a stellar ruby and silken gown. When home, she makes straight for the garage and Korra’s new workshop to share it with her.

“Hey, babe, can you pass me that wrench?” She’d been down there experimenting with other mediums and Asami found her welding steel into floral shapes.

She palmed a ball of red fabric into her open hand and Korra had to lift her visor to look at it, at Asami and the overcoat held shut by her knotted hands.

“What’s this?” she balked.

“My dress,” Asami explained, making for the secret entrance that led them back into their living room, “ _Tool belt on_ ,” she called back, tossing her coat her way when around the corner. Smirking with satisfaction at the clattering of Korra dropping everything to follow her out in nothing more than a pair of heels.

****

“Is that Banyan?"

Where once the eponymous Sato Portrait had loomed over the living room, Asami had begun constructing a mosaic of their lives from her collection of photos. Day by day it was growing, there seemed to be a direct ratio between the size of the photo and the height at which it was pinned. Some Korra recognised, and had even relinquished a few from her own collection for the cause. Piece by piece Asami’s love for her old home was being replenished and surpassed, and Korra was hopelessly endeared by it. Asami, titan of technology, steel and circuits, kept bringing home potted plants and filling every room with life. As if long ago the oxygen had been sucked out of the house, and she were personally terraforming it.

It started with that first photo at Banyan Grove, but it was the second to which Korra was referring. The diner gleaming like an oasis, blown large so the two could be seen, Asami caught kissing Korra’s closed eyes in a moment of acute solemnity.

“ _These are the paparazzi photos!_ ” Korra exclaimed both ecstatic and intrigued.

Tonight was something of a girls night in and dinner date combined. Fine wine that Korra could take or leave, but Thai food that she definitely could not. She popped a spring roll in her mouth as she inspected.

“Yes,” Asami answered calmly, plating noodles with her chopsticks without looking up, “I liked them,” blush already starting to rage.

Korra skimmed to the next, the stairs outside the firehouse, the kiss after Asami confessed that she loved her for the first time.

“But these aren’t cut outs…you got the negatives?”

“Yes,”

“ _How_?”

“The photographer came forward,”

“Came _forward_?”

“I may have asked,”

“Oh my god!” Korra pulled down one from their first date, parallel to them on the water tower, it must’ve been taken from scaffolding across the street. Korra leaning against Asami’s shoulder on the bench, fingers entangled and admiring the light show beneath them. All of Republic city at their feet. “These are really good…what did they cost?”

“Nothing I was using,”

“‘ _Sami_ ,”

“Kay, The food’s getting cold,” Korra shot her a look, “Fine, dad’s plans for the prototype we crushed.”

Korra’s eyes boggled at the realisation.

“That nerdy kid from the diner!” she turned to look up at his work, she knew an older part of her should be upset at the intrusion, but she truly was at such a sublime level of contentment she could only admire them. “Good for him,”

Asami smiled fondly at her as she moved to join her on their new couch, (the old one ruined in a tragic painting accident). Watching her now Asami could see her tangible personal growth, and she was so proud of her. This was happening more and more recently, and she reacted the same way she always did; with a Pavlovian tap to her cheek and affectionate press of her lips in a chaste, heart warming kiss.

Later when Korra turns back to admire the artwork on the wall, poking her food with her chopsticks; a grin tugs at her lips at an exquisite idea.

"What’s the big space at the top for?” she asks quietly. Asami chokes on her wine and grips her knee, but she doesn’t answer. Not yet.

****

Asami was nervous, it’d been a minute since she’d last been nervous. It had also been a while since she’d celebrated a birthday. Korra had floated the idea that they had a big house now, what a great excuse to fill it with people and celebrate with those she loved; and not just those she’d hired. She couldn’t deny her girlfriend’s puppy dog eyes and powerful pout. Even less so when she weaponised their new puppy, Naga, to sway her resolve to devastating effect.

So she was sat at her dressing table reapplying her plump matte plum lipstick. It wasn’t her fault really, she blamed Korra; wearing a chiffon white shirt and tight black pants with her hair pinned back. She’d had a hard time resisting the allure and the androgyny. Asami was considering banning her from the bedroom until the guests started to arrive.

She knew it was too late, spotting her carrying a cardboard box through the doorway.

“I have _officially_ moved in!” Korra announced happily.

“And the last eight months don’t count because?”

“Because Kai just brought over the last box!”

“Kai’s here?”

“He left don’t worry, party’s not until seven. I think he just wanted to get a look at Naga.” Korra placed the box on the bed and sauntered behind her, knowing full well she was being watched, “Thank you by the way,” she pressed a fond kiss to the back of her head, “you gave me the best birthday ever. I mean the first _Water Tribe_ _Pride_ and _you, and a polar bear dog puppy,_ ” she wrapped her arms behind her shoulders, tracing her clavicle with a feather’s touch as she leaned into her. “I don’t know how I’m going to top it, _truly_ ,”

“She’s an albino malamute,” Asami reminded tacitly, bouncing her gaze as she was sure she was blushing, “You don’t- _I didn’t…”_ she sighed _, “_ My birthday is always hard, but this is already special.” she conceded squeezing her arm, and meeting her reflected gaze, “I have you,”

“No offence but you had me before on all those other birthdays too, but it was a nice line,” Korra teased pecking her temple tenderly and slipping away. “You give yourself too little credit Asami Sato,” she tacked on earnestly.

Asami watched her slip on the gold wrist watch Asami had also gifted her with on her birthday. Ever since The Water Tribe pride first appeared on the horizon Asami felt the acute need to propose to her girlfriend, but instead she buckled under the pressure and found herself too nervous to do it in front of a whole town with historically angry cameras. Added to the fact that since her divorce, neither of them had spoken about marriage except in the vaguest of terms. They were committed, that’s all there was to it. Ergo, Korra got a dog, a sleepless night as a pillow princess and a wrist watch that taunted Asami to this day.

She was so lost in the motions of Korra fastening the watch that she barely heard her continue.

“You had a major effect on the political climate of my hometown so - you know - _thank you,_ ” she smirked, and Asami smirked back until she realised she wanted to kiss her again.

“ _Out_.” she told her.

“What? No, wait I have to unpack the _box_.”

“Later, get out, I can’t look at you waiting for seven and not ruin my make up for a third time,”

“You ruined mine too!”

“It was mine to start with,” Asami seethed, smiling despite it all, at the memory of wiping her lipstick off of Korra’s mouth with her diminishing supply of wipes.

“Okay, _okay_ , just, it’s not a lot, let me,” Korra picked up the box with both hands, and tentatively placed it at where her dress pooled over her feet. “unpack it for me okay? I want this to be official as soon as possible.”

Stepping back she went into the en Suite and closed the door, Asami listened to the taps turn on before finishing her lower lip.

Curious eyes fell to the box, brown cardboard and innocuous enough. Surely it could wait, none the less she was swayed by Korra’s excitement and decided a peek wouldn’t hurt.

There wasn’t a lot inside, some newspapers and receipts that Korra had kept. Some flowers, dried and pressed in a simple wooden frame. She recognised the panda lilies as she lifted it, and it made Asami’s heart swell at the memory. Korra had been so nervous she’d barely confessed to them. She was near enough Korra’s side of the bed to set it up for her, but as she lifted the picture a certain distinct, deft, _thump_ caught her ear. A velveteen box brushed her knuckles in the dark. She placed the flower first, and reached into grab it.

Her heart was pounding so loudly she missed the water turning off. She was lost to the palm sized case; soft and shining, thumb tracing the seam, not quite brave enough to open it alone.

“I was thinking of doing this back home…” Korra’s saccharine voice is on the verge of tears. When Asami looks up she can see her reflection in the mirror, and by the time Asami’s whirls to see her in person she’s on one knee. Her eyes are bright and stunning and Asami’s own fill and spill over and _yep,_ her makeup was ruined again. She can’t breathe and her hand flies to her own mouth to stop it from her heart from leaping out.

“…But I thought the press would already be on us and… I wanted to give you the chance to say _no_ ,” her expression is funny but Asami can’t laugh. Half joking, half sincere, half smiling, half hoping, she goes on and her words can’t help but _break,_ “I know you’ve done this before and your last experience - it might have put you off, which _I completely understand_ and I know I could have asked but I didn’t want to suck the romance out of this which I might already be doing…. _all I’m saying is -_ we don’t have to change, this is how I feel about you.” she closes her eyes and lets the weight of her next words swathe through them both, “ _It’s how I’ve always felt_ ,” she’d kept the secret for so long, and even together she never let her know just how deep the feelings were, but she tried. Inch by inch, day by day; a battle all the same, “You’re smart, and fierce and sophisticated and a _total mess_ and you make me so happy and I _adore_ you, so much… So without talking you out of it - Asami will you marry me?”

The silence that follows is agonising, and it’s all Asami can do to stand and keep breathing rather than respond. Curious Korra watches her, willing her heart not to crumble in a few seconds that tick like hours. Asami rushes to her side of the bed in a flurry of purple silk; to her mothers bedside cabinet. She protrudes the false bottom to pull out a box of her own. All the seconds in those hours rush back and suddenly she’s knelt in front of Korra too, frantic fingers prying open the case, dark olive green to offset the colours of the turquoise necklace inside; a carved pearl hanging at a centre of the ribbon.

“Your dad showed me how to make it,” Korra crumbles, having riled herself up the point in seconds where this could all be for nothing, and is suddenly let back down again, floating light as a dancing feather. She reached up to trace the carvings; the elegant and precise shapes, waves and cogs that were just so _her_.

“I love it,” she croaks, disembodied in the best way as Asami’s thumb strokes her cheek.

“Does that mean you’ll marry _me_?” Asami laughs wetly and Korra can only nod and kiss her.

“ _Wait_ ,” Korra stops herself to open her ring box, and Asami’s breathless. It’s the same width asthe ring she already wears there, a promise from months ago, instead of silver, diamond’s are set in an antique white gold pattern all around. Korra moves Yasuko’s ring to the next finger tenderly, and Asami has to keep herself from shaking too much to let her slip the new one in its place. Asami ties the necklace about Korra’s throat and her hair is short enough so it can be seen from every angle, but long enough to be tangled in Asami’s fingers as she tugs her into a soft and tender kiss.

“Why would I ever say no to you?” she asked against her lips, straying to her cheek and jaw as she moved to tug her into a tight embrace.

“Because I ruined your make up again?” Korra sniffled. Asami’s body erupts into euphoric laughter in her arms. She wipes her tears instinctively and can’t bring herself to care over smearing her mascara into Korra’s shirt.

There were many things Korra thought she could live without in her life; a house turned into a home, an honest relationship with her family, and the love of her best friend. It wasn’t until she had them all did she realise how horrendously wrong she’d been.

They were perfect, basking in the ethereal divinity of this moment, and nothing in the world could ruin it except -

_Ding dong._

“Oh God… _people_ ,” Korra balked in a tremulous voice.

_dingdong dingdong dingdong dingdong - OW_

“Bo,”Asami breathed, hiding her smile in Korra’s shirt.

***

Korra’s dreams were made of this.

Her best friend, the blushing bride, smiling up at her.

Korra hadn’t yet seen her in her wedding dress, and the surprise was astounding. It was different to her old one, and she was infinitely better suited to it. No veil; intricate lacework on her shoulders, not a scar in sight, the mermaid cut hugging her hips before billowing on the ground. Asami was a Queen, dark curls framing her exquisite deep green eyes, floating towards her. If gracing her with her poise and presence was all Korra ever got, she could die happy.

She watched the faces of her friends, Mako and Bolin on her side, Opal stood at another, and felt the pit in her stomach flutter and twist. Even Naga sat vigil at her side, too big to be a ring bearer now, in a few short months the puppy had become an adolescent, leaning bodily against her mother’s side, ears too big for her head, feet still too big for her body, but still tall enough to slow dance with a fully grown human male in a pinch.

Asami in step beside Korra’s father, a man taking the task of giving her away _very_ seriously. Tonraq had his back straight, barely masking the tears that sprang forth as they walked the aisle with his upright zeal. Asami had a hard time keeping it together herself.

She clutched Tonraq’s arm for balance, as her bride’s angular cheekbones, enhanced by her up-do, her elegant roll necked dress, and her defined shoulders sang through silk, knocking Asami for six.

During their official courtship, Korra had made a point of reintroducing Asami to her pseudo family at Ember island. Kya and Kana were in the front row with her parents. Ikki and Jinora held flowers for Asami and followed the bride, whereas baby Rohan, now walking, threw petals at guests with excellent aim. Meelo had taken to heading the charge, having opened the doors with a bang and had taken an agent-like seriousness in protecting the rings.

When they reached the altar, Asami threw her arms around Tonraq with such force he had panda lily petals adorning his shoulder when they parted. The audience chuckled; a mix of friends that mostly felt like family. Tonraq mopped his eye with a handkerchief and took a step to squeeze his daughter while he had the chance, before taking his place beside his wife.

When Asami was in proximity of her fiancee she kissed her gratefully, earning applause until the officiant cleared her throat.

“I haven’t gotten to that part yet,” she told them, and Asami cleared her throat, nodding barely listening, lost in the intricacies of the woman ahead of her, their fingers loosely tangled between them.

“ _I do,_ ” hearing Korra say it, felt like a miracle, and in her heart of hearts she felt her soul being fulfilled by it. She takes the ribbon necklace in her fingers and unfurling it, tying it around Asami’s throat.

“I do too,” she added, before the officiant had even finished her line. Asami slipped the ring (relinquished by Meelo) onto the finger of Korra's she held, turning the diamonds, matching her own, until they glinted, winking at them both.

“ _Now_ you may kiss the bride,”

Already in her orbit, her arms crossed behind her neck the rest of the way, kissing her sweetly, and to riotous applause.

***

“Speech!” Bolin started the chant, and soon enough the rest of the party joined in, having been enjoying the free bar since arriving at the venue.

Asami looked at Korra, whom was smiling throat tight. Korra squeezed her wife’s hand thrice and gazed at her expectantly, _you go._

Gingerly, at the brides table, she stood, and people ceased clinking glasses to listen.

“I want to thank you all for coming, _again_.” that earned a good natured titter, “The people who mean the most to me are here in this room. Those of you who are here know what Korra and I have is real. You know the length of our journey together. How hard it was to uncover our truths, how easy it is, to love my best friend… You all know how happy we are to finally be together…” she trailed off, looking for the empty chairs at the end of their table, symmetrical with Tonraq’s and Senna’s.

Korra had insisted she didn’t have to if she didn’t want to, but the option was there. Reconciling the complexities of her past had seemed impossible, never the less, a small forgiving part of her _wanted_ those seats there. She couldn’t help but imagine her parents, sat there; smiling at her, and for that she was somehow grateful.

“I like to think, although my father disagreed with this, I could have talked him around. After all I’ve done it before,” she smiled solemnly at Tonraq, who smirked encouragingly back, “I know, ultimately, they would have been proud of me for finding happiness, and fighting for it,” her voice was breathless and she took a moment to collect herself for something she was surprisingly unprepared for.

Eyes closed she felt her wife rubbing the small of her back, soothing her through the ancient pain.

“Korra fell in love with me without me knowing. I, also, fell in love with Korra without me knowing. I uncovered the secret while we were fighting, _literally,_ and looking back maybe I should have waited, maybe I should have thought but you can’t plan _serendipity_. When we kissed, it was _euphoria_ , and _boy_ , did everything start making sense…I’m so glad that when I uncovered the mistake, that I had the strength to change that, because I can’t imagine my life without you this way. You’re my hero, and now my wife, and I’m so looking forward for making up for lost time with you and to feel every _second_ of our future together in all it’s glory… If you would all raise a toast, to Korra,”

“ _Korra,”_ said the room.

“That’s not fair,” her wife countered, standing after Asami had taken upon herself to sit, holding her hand, kissing her ring, Korra said, “I am at least half way at fault for not getting my shit together,” she laughed, “I walked into love with you all those years ago, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step of the way. Thinking that if you could never love me back I could still adore you from where I stood. I would build up my walls, and you would take them down, until finally helped me take them down for good. I should have told you every day from the moment I met you…I-” her throat seized, regret choking her, until Asami’s palm graced her cheek and the words returned to her, flowing, “ _I have been writing these vows in my mind since then_ , and I could never settle on the combination of words to tell you all I’d do for you. It was only by kissing you I realised, words mean nothing without the act of love itself… I’ll spend the rest of my life, loving you, showing you what you mean to me, and how happy you’ve made me.” Korra raised her glass, “To _my_ wife, I love you Asami.”

Asami surged from her seat to kiss her this time, teary eyed to the sound of applause.

“God let’s get married again,” she laughed.

“Only if we celebrate the divorce like last time.” Korra told her quietly balancing her forehead over hers, and watching her blush bloom.

Theres something to be said about throwing a party for yourself with everyone you love. The somewhat chaotic happiness of riotous, joyous, personalities stuffed in a room admiring you.

Korra never really wanted a wedding, but simply an eternity with Asami. The next level, hand in hand. Still she couldn’t deny getting caught up in it herself. It was much better than the last wedding she’d attended after all.

Unfortunately at this very moment she’d been waylaid by the one business partner that managed to secure an invite somehow, a catastrophic man named Varrick with a litany of fantastical ideas, and entirely no clue how read the social queues Korra was giving him now.

“…As I was saying, _say a Satomobile and a boat had a baby - and that baby had rocket boots! -_ say does this appetiser have cashew in it perchance?” The last syllable was bizarrely lisped heavily, and before Korra could gauge his meaning, he announced loudly “Zhu-Li, _do the thing!”_ And a demure bespectacled woman produced an Epi-Pen and stabbed him in the leg with it.

“It’s time to go to the ER sir,” and like that Korra finally found herself with a moment alone.

Looking out over the small crowd of familiar faces she sensed acutely that Asami was no longer in the room. She walked over to Kai talking to Jinora, admiring his latest ice sculpting triumph; _The Lovers of Kyoshi Park._ He’d carved a to-scale version of Korra’s, now Kai’s, fire house, complete with working lamplights and he’d even managed to dye the ice so they tinged true to the original image. On the stairs Asami was in her ball gown having pulled Korra’s overalls down for a kiss.

“Wow Kai this is amazing,” Jinora gushed.

“Oh yeah,” he responded, shrugging, unaware of Korra’s presence “I had a lot of practice when my boss wasn’t looking, _slash_ sleeping with married women,”

“It doesn’t count if you marry the married woman you have an affair with,” Korra seethed and there was a particular joy in watching him jump out of his skin.

“Oh hey! Korra, ha-have you seen this?”

“We already did the reveal, calm down Kai,” she smirked at him and he puffed out a relieved breath. “I love it,” Korra added softly. She was feeling extra sentimental, so dragged the boy in to kiss his temple and he blushed.

“Did I mention? - The back is a vodka luge,” he asked, holding up a bottle of grey goose he was far too young to have purchased legally.

“Hired, you are hired for life,” she grinned. “Have you seen my wife?” as soon as she said it her chest burst alight with untold pleasures. It was just a simple word yet it held such power.

“Oh yeah, we saw her head out onto the balcony,” Kai pointed and Korra followed, and true to his word her new wife cut an attractive brooding figure in the distance. She tried not to let anxious thoughts claw at her as she made her way through the crowd.

“You’re not smoking out here are you?” she teased, and Asami’s back straightened to her, and Korra caught the swift movements swiping tears from her cheeks before she turned. “Oh, did you…” Korra balked, “Did you need a minute?” just asking was agony in that moment, until Asami’s arms wrapped around her tight and she was held close in those unyielding arms. “What brought this on?” she asked, relieved, swaying her gently.

“ _You make me happy,_ ” Asami answered simply, and Korra felt the sting of tears herself. “and I knew you’d follow me out here,” she laughed, stroking her hands warmly over the expanse of Korra’s bare arms.

“I know we said we wouldn’t bring it up but it’s there and I can’t believe I ever did this without you,” she pried back, swiping her tears, “How could you stand watching me do it? And go through the reception and _watch me go_? How could _I_ put you though that? I’m going half cra-”

One of the few things Korra knows can stop a Sato spiralling is a well timed kiss. Her wife falls into it and already she feels her tension slip beneath her fingers. As they part slowly, they find themselves embracing as tiny flecks of rain start swirling in the air. Korra takes Asami’s hand and places it on her waist. The song inside is barely audible, but from the swell of the bass they know it’s slow and romantic. It’s enough, and soon they’re dancing on the misty balcony, every so often trading gentle soothing kisses.

“Is this helping?” Korra croons and Asami nods, smiling.

“Maybe, keep trying,”

Korra obliges. Kissing longer and sweeter.

“Aren’t you cold?” Korra asks, watching the tiny drops percolate in Asami’s hair and gleam jewel on her skin.

“With you? Never,” Asami answers, adjusting her hold so she can press her ear to the join of Korra’s neck and shoulder. A perfect fit that felt like home.

“You want to stay out here longer?”

“When has rain ever bothered us before?”

Korra hummed in agreement, quietly musing how every beautiful moment they’d shared was tinged with it. The night in the cabin, the night at the firehouse, their first date; each of them savoured sparkling.

“I’m so sorry Korra,” Asami confessed again, pulling her tighter, and Korra doing the same.

“No more of those,” Korra admonished soothingly, pressing her lips to the soft beneath her ear. “After everything, I have absolute proof that _you love me._ You risked everything to be with me, _to marry me,”_ Korra braced her forehead against her temple, willing the epiphany into her wife’s mind as she saw it, “There’s nothing more perfect than that,”

“No,” Asami agreed, “You want to know how I know you love me?”

“How?” Korra smiled.

“ _You wore heels to our wedding,_ ”

****

In the living room of the Sato place there’s a photograph. It’s bigger, and hangs higher, than all the rest. Two brides dancing on a misty balcony caught in a private moment, beautiful none the less. Haloed by the Republic City skyline, and those lights refracting off of every particle of precipitation in the air, the two look ethereal, and are staring adoringly into each others eyes.

Throughout the years they’ve add to their collection, each puzzle piece framed and shining, smiling out and proud into the room. Some summers at Ember Island, some winters at Harbour town, pride parades, parties, and a simple Wednesday afternoon of baking. A sonogram, hospital trip, a first day of school.

There’s also photos of a little known holiday destination tucked away in the forests of Gao Ling. Year after year the Sato’s return, and each time their party grows a little bigger, posing, gurning, grinning for the camera. They rent the cabins by the lake at the Banyan Grove tree, and to the other regulars they know exactly who they are when they hear the name Sato. Korra Sato has that famously authentic smile, and her wife Asami; a tremendous spirit of kindness, full and unyielding. Whomever heard of Hiroshi the criminal knew, truly, he wasn’t related to this lovely young family in any way that mattered.

This year, they were already unpacked and unwound, and ready to ring in the next with a fairly unique New Years Trip to Banyan with all their friends. It was Asami’s idea, all those empty cabins just sitting there, and the perfect lake to reflect a pyrotechnic marvel off of when theball dropped. Unfortunately their daughter wasn’t old enough to keep her eyes from rolling back into her head after 9pm, and was protesting yawningly to her mother from her bottom bunk.

“I wanna see the rest of the fireworks,” she yawned for the fifteenth time, rubbing the quick-building sleep dust from her eyes.

“If you can stay awake, you can watch, but look at you, you can’t even keep your head up see?” Korra had sat her up and true to her word her little head flopped to the side as she pulled her daughters’ wolf tails free.

“ _Carry me_ ,” her little green eyes pierced Korra where it wounded. When she could open her eyes of course.

“Oof _my heart_. Sweetie I don’t think you understand, I can’t carry you. I need my arms, you see when new year starts; I’m going to be kissing mommy at midnight,”

“ _Ewww_ ,”

“I know _gross_ , you don’t want to be up to see it,”

“Can I have a story then?” she asked laying down, hands tucked under her cheek as Korra pulled her blanket over her. Korra checked her watch, and gave her daughter the act of relinquishing. There was a fair amount of pageantry that came with bed times, but she seemed to have cracked it with the right bargains and a one woman show.

“One story,” she conceded, “Which one?”

“The Princesses,”

“Ah - a fine choice,” Korra cleared her throat, leaning against the frame of the bed she sat on. An odd déjà vu settling upon her as she recited to the little Sato girl in it. “Once upon a time, in a fairly nearby kingdom, lived a beautiful Princess in her super high tech tower, with lasers and space ships and-“

“ _Mom-“_

_“You want a story or don’t you?_ The Princesses of this planet had to wear veils to hide their beauty from the world, and in turn the world was hidden from them. They have an oath, you see, to find true love and strengthen their kingdom with it. One day she meets a handsome prince, chosen by her father. A warrior, big man, strong, handsome;” Korra grunts to a caveman effect, flexing, “the perfect match. And then they got married the end.”

“You’re not telling it right!”

“Oh yeah there’s more _ahem_ \- she and the prince are married, but something’s not quite right. There’s no love there,the oath is not fulfilled - so the veil _wouldn’t move._ No matter what she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to fall for him. So she told-“

“-the decorator!”

“ _In House Palace Artisan_ please!” Korra protested, “Who was the Princesses’ best friend, and she, well, she’d been in love with the Princess for longer than she could ever say, but she could _never ever tell her,_ for according to law, she was not worthy.”

“Dumb law,”

“I know!” Korra agreed. At the doorway a familiar silhouette presented herself, ear bent to the tale she too knew too well. Smirking Korra continued. “Instead she reminded the Princess that if she could just open her brains to the possibilities, she could be happy and _like that,_ ” Korra snaps her fingers, “she was free. The Princess could finally rip off her veil, _kiss_ her best friend and suddenly everything was bright and shining and all the world finally makes _sense_. _They’re were in love._ But little did she know her marriage to the Prince was a _cursed one,”_

The little girl in the bed lets out a deft gasp.

_“…_ That by betraying him - she’d turned him into a horrible grizzly monster!” Korra roared and transformed, tickling her victim who squirmed and squeaked, “and he hunted them but together, Princess and Decorator using their superior martial arts skills fought him off!”

”Could they be together?” Asked the girl on queue.

“ _No!_ ” Korra responded, “The _townspeople_ didn’t like them - the only way to show them was to rule anyway, and show the people how a kingdom could be led with love. So they did, the couple won them over through their actions. And when they were accepted, they could get married themselves.”

“Yes,” her daughter hissed gleefully. Korra continued.

“…and some time later, through a wish - a baby princess is born-“

“Marceline the Vampire Queen!” Marcy cuts her off and Korra is surprised by this and immensely proud. Holding back her laughter she says.

“That’s very good, and while I applaud your _Yes And?_ quality _-_ That is the end of the story, so it’s time for bed,”

“Pfft! Time isn’t real,” Marcy complains, squirming as Korra tucks her sheets in around her.

“Listen baby, gender is a construct, money is a construct but bed time is _very real_ ,” Korra kisses her forehead to punctuate her point and was about to stand when little hands grasp her clothing.

“Mama wait,”

“What is it?” Korra asks, curiosity peaking at the earnest glisten in her daughter's eyes.

"Kiss Mommy good night new year,” Marcy kisses her cheek, demonstrating exactly how she’d like the job done.

“Oh okay,” Korra balks, voice husky, throat tight, determined not to cry in front of her daughter, aka the little monster with the heart of absolute _gold_. “I’ll kiss her good night new year for you,”

She stands finally flicking off the lamp light.

“Goodnight Bonnie,” she whispers to the little girl snoozing in the next bed.

“Happy New Year Mrs Sato,” she mumbles, waiting for the adult to leave the room before gazing over at her friend and telling her sincerely. “Wow, your mom tells a good story,”

“I _know_ ,” Marcy gushes.

When Korra emerges, she dabs her tears, and she finds her wife pressed against the wall so she’s not seen doing the exact same thing. At the sight of her however, Asami sobs, and tugs her into her arms. Korra is amenable; holding her tight as the feelings overwhelm; two decades of dominoes lined up and for some reason whatever happened just then tipped them over, and now Asami is hyperventilating. Korra holds her through it like she always does, blinking through her own tears as the well of her happiness overflows.

“ _This is all I’ve ever wanted_ ,” Asami confesses into her throat. “I’m sorry but she, I, she’s so perfect and _so are you_ and I heard every word of your lame story-“

“Hey!” Korra protests laughing.

“-and I’m just so happy,” Asami’s sobs turn to laughter too, prying back to kiss her gleefully. Korra makes a point of kissing her cheek.

“Good night new year from Marcy,” she tells her, nosing her jaw, lifting her lips to press delicately to hers. Asami can only respond in kind, until she’s kissing her as passionately as the day they started this love affair. Building, soft and sweet until she’s walking Korra back into the master bedroom and pressing her hard into the wall there.

“You want to make another one?” Korra jokes between kisses and Asami jibes back.

“I would if I could, don’t tempt me,”

They’ve a couple hours until midnight, and their friends are waiting by the lakeside fire pit outside. Still there’s enough of them that their absence might not be noted for a moment longer. They steal long languishing minutes making out on the bed they’d first slept together in. Korra’s on top, and she doesn’t mean to let her hand slip into Asami’s pants but the energy is still prevalent after all these years, and Asami keeps kissing her _neck_.

Those old habits die hard; spotting openings and taking them, but openings are riskier when you have a four year old. Thankfully, less so when it’s nighttime and the door is _locked_.

Asami sucks in a breath as her fingers slip inside her wet heat and start to pump, skilled and precise. Biting her lip to keep quiet, her head falls back onto the pillow as Korra pulls apart her shirt to take her breast in her mouth, tongue circling its pebbled peak.

So Asami loses herself to the silent ecstasy, hands clawing desperately at Korra’s clothed back, aching for skin. She doesn’t waste a moment, combing her fingers through her hair, pulling her up and kissing her deeply. There’s something frantic in the way they cling to each other, spurred by the time limit and white heat that burns between them. She knows they don’t have long, and the more she thinks about who should be thanking _whom,_ she’s already slipping her hand past the seam of Korra’s jeans. Hips start to flutter as Asami’s fingers slip lower and she’s stroking her mound the the heel of her palm. It’s messy and unrestrained; but wherever they’re going, they’re leaping together.

“ _I’m cumming_ ,” Asami gasps and it’s all she can say, over and over until Korra braces herself to catch the sounds with her lips. As she canters and shakes, her fingers play the same notes through Korra and she’s so wound up it takes so little to tip her over that edge. She rides her wife’s hand until her body wracks and stiffens, mouth falling open in ecstasy before every muscle in her body has melted and she sinks.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” Korra whispers it smiling, peppering kisses into her jaw and neck and Asami laughs.

“Yes we should have,” she tells her, “Come on,” slipping her fingers out of her, while combing Korra’s hair to rights above from where she’d twisted it into a matted passionate bird’s nest. They dress and preen throughout the house as they make their way outside. Korra takes Asami’s hand, smirking as though she’s won something precious, as though she doesn’t already have it.

“You guys are animals!” That smirk only becomes unhelpfully shit-eating when Opal spots them on their way out.

“What?” Korra feigns innocence, and Asami takes a sly sip of her wine.

“You think I don’t remember your ‘ _we’ve just had sex faces_ ,’” Opal sneers and Asami nearly chokes on it.

“Keep it down my _mom_ is over there,” Korra’s grin drops as their situation dawns on her.

“And my _daughter_ is in there, you better not have scarred her,” Opal prods at Korra’s chest but she can tell the threats are mostly harmless, as the force of it only makes herself stagger.

“ _We were quiet,_ ” Korra hushes, “They’re sleeping like babies, we checked before…”

“It was just some _light making out,”_ cheeks rosy, Asami told a white lie,

“-And some _heavy petting_ ,” but Korra can’t help but tack on and her wife elbows her. Asami shoots Opal her trust me look.

“This place is special to us,” she confesses shyly, leaning into Korra’s arm for support.

“ _I’ll say_ , had to burn those sheets after you’d left - they were ripe!” said the cantankerous landlady, crowing from her perch on the next porch over.

“I’m so glad we invited Toph to this,” Korra breathed through gritted teeth.

“How does she even remember?” Asami whispered.

“Hey lesbians, my are eyes blind, but my ears work fine. Mrs Nunya and _Smith!_ ”

“Hey _old broad_ , when you finish that beer come get another one by the fire pit,” Korra yelled back. Toph vaguely annoyed grunt could have been interpreted as, _I’ll be down in a minute._

Opal rolled her eyes but swivelled; throwing her arms around their shoulders, those entangled hands catching her from falling flat on her back. The trio walked in tandem to the burning logs at the edge of a lake.

“So how did you two lovely ladies meet?” Mako’s new squeeze, a wiry twink by the name of Wu, asked Kya and Kana on their log beside him. Thanks to Mako’s commitment anxieties he’d met next to no-one, but that didn’t stop him from charming every one of his friends by the end of the night.

“Oof it’s been a while since someone asked me that,” Kya balked, “A party? I think,”

“She stole me from my fiancé,” Kana corrected.

“That. Is. The. _Juiciest!_ ” Wu squealed.

“Now hold on!” Kya protested, “I stole no-one-,”

“I was a lifelong Ember Islander and then Kya came into town,” Kya seemed to settle under her wife’s fond gaze, “She made me feel like a newcomer… kissed me in the lagoon, said she could take me all around the world…”

“Which you didn’t take me up on right away,”

“I said _I didn’t want the world, just you_ ,”

“Aw,” Wu crooned, eyes crinkling adoringly, “How _gay_ ,”

“Thanks kid,” Kya handed him a beer which he politely took, but never sipped. “Stealing from a fiancé isn’t as bad as stealing from a husband though,”

“Speaking of-” Kana turned to Korra and her loving eye-roll.

“Say where _is_ Mako!” Korra exclaimed desperate to change the subject.

“Truth or dare,” Wu pointed.

Mako was sat in his underwear on a branch overhanging the lake.

“I am an _adult_ man,” he yelled beleaguered at his situation.

“And your team lost the coin toss!” Wu called back, “In the lake rummy!”

“ _You’re rummy,_ ” Mako mocked, edging his way to the thinner part of the branch, and seemingly psyching himself up. Bolin had other ideas, gorilla-man-launching himself at his brother to wipe both him and the branch out.

“Wow you miss a lot when you’re having…” Korra balked, aware of her parents looming nearby, “… _when you got kids,”_ finishing her sentence muffled into her beer.

“I still think we’re the winners in this situation,” Asami squeezed her hand balancing her chin on Korra’s shoulder as they watched their friends splash each other like children.

When Mako and Bolin joined them by the fire, they were marginally sober from their winter dip. Not nearly as sober as Korra felt watching them all. Kya and Kana had joined Senna and Tonraq in their ‘elders’ lakeside walk. This was when the vodka was brought out to play yet another drinking game.

“What better way to get to know you folks than a rousing game of _Never Have I Ever_?” Wu announced. Mako took the bottle from him if only to sip warmth back into his body.

“I’ll start,” he added, earning a surprised look from his new beau, “Never have I ever…kissed the person next to me?” to that effect he turned his head to Wu expectantly.

“You are very bad at this,” Wu admonished, smooching his dumb face. “Never have I ever…kissed a married woman,”

Korra narrowed her eyes and drank, surprised to find Asami drinking too.

_“We’re married_ ,” she reminded her sweetly.

“Never have I ever…had sex in a gymnasium,” Opal added.

“Or a pantry,” Bolin added next.

“Or when I’m supposed to be at work!” Opal still seems miffed about that one.

“Okay, this is starting to feel like a personal attack,” Korra accuses.

“Never have I ever both kissed me!” Mako drawled, grinning glassy eyed.

The group erupts in laughter, and Korra retreats in faux offence into her wife’s arms. Asami coos over her teasingly, kissing the back of her head to ease the pout she knows is there.

“Okay, I actually want to be sober enough to remember the New Year when it happens, so,” Asami ambles to her feet and tugs on Korra’s hands.

“Never have I ever - _screwed Korra in the woods!”_ Opal’s voice is a cryptic echo by the time it reaches them. Without thinking, the two best friends flip the bird at the group who guffaw good-naturedly.

Asami thinks about ending the pageantry and re-joining, but the next opportunity is too good to miss.

It had been a while since the two of them had ventured round the lake without daylight. Luckily the moon beams and the fireflies seem to remember their way for them. High in the sky the Banyan Grove Tree looms over them, and down below, Asami guides Korra onto the deck wherein they’d shared a picnic once before.

They were far enough from the cacophony of voices to not be seen, but close enough that the honeyed songs of the stereo Bolin had brought out still echoed eerily across the lake. As they reach it, the first of the fireworks set off - signalling midnight, reflecting on the inky water like purple and yellow stars lighting up an endless sky. Bolin queued up a song, one that everyone, everywhere likely knew - _Auld Lang Syne_ , and when it occurred to Asami she should be dancing she saw that Korra was already looking at her, palm faced up.

After all these years, their tangled fingers still spark a flutter of excitement in their chests, their bodies slip into place as they orbit effortlessly in tandem. Their eyes still meet, devout in the wonder they have enamoured in the other.

“You know what this means right?” Asami asks her, gazing at her with that charmed smile on her ruby red lips, “This is the year we’ll have been in love longer than we were friends,”

“You’ve been counting?” Korra noted.

“Like you haven’t,”

“Didn’t want to jinx it,” Korra lets her forehead balance over Asami’s as they turn.

“You can’t,” Asami tells her, fingers curling into her shirt, “You’re stuck with me now,”

There’s something in the notion that lurches within her then, an annual existential ennui that has her tugging Korra close just so they’re cheek to cheek.

“Do you think, even with different decisions, we’d end up together?” Asami sounds small and vulnerable, and Korra can’t help but smile at the way her heart goes out to all the other Korras and Asamis that don’t, if they even exist.

However, Korra is certain that they don’t.

“I’m not a scientist, not like you, but I think, no I _know_ , in all the infinite universes - _we’re right here_ , we’re married, with our little girl tucked up in bed, and all our family, all our friends near us. We are dancing on this deck, all the same.”

Asami scoffs but squeezes her, arms over waists, and hands aloft.

“How do you _know_?” Asami accused.

“Oh because I swore to get over you by years end, oh,” Korra checks her watch, “Thirteen years ago now, and we’re right here,”

“You never told me that!” Asami exclaims, flinching back to get a look at her wife, who simply nudges her nose with her own. “You were going to get _rid of me_?” she plays wounded well but Korra simply softens and whispers.

“I couldn’t even try,”

Asami can’t keep the charade for even a second as she melts for her. Kissing her forehead, down to her cheek as they sway, gentle as the breeze.

“What does this song even mean?”

“I believe it’s _Scottish_ ,” Asami muses as a faux scholar, “Out with the old, in with the new, remembering old friends and _the good old days_ ,”

When Korra’s feeling brave enough she dips her, balancing precariously close to the brink of the deck that they’re standing on.

“The good old days huh?” and Asami knows what her wife’s about to do before she does it, but not fast enough that she can stop her.

“Korra- _no_!”

Korra uses her strength and grip to twist and launch them both into the lake. The water rushes up around them, and Asami could feel the sure and certain tug of a hand on her wrist guiding her to the surface. Asami swept back her inky black locks while emerging, finding she could stand on the lake bed quite easily. She's fuming until she sees Korra’s eyes crinkling with that held back laughter.

“It’s _jinxed_ ,” She seethes, splashing at her, before tugging her close, “ _Sick of your shit_ ,” she echoes, and on the last word her lips are twisting up despite best efforts.

Tipping Korra’s chin up with her finger she watches her pupils dilate, catching the red and blue sparks still hovering in the air above them. Fingers knotting in Korra’s short locks as she presses her lips to hers ardently, palm rising out of the water to cup and cradle her cheek.

“Happy New Year Korra,” when they part she’s breathless. 

“Happy New Year Asami,” and Korra is just as affected. They climb, soaking, out of the lake with barely a thought as to how they look or how cold they should feel. Cheeks burning they amble past their friends back to their cabin, specifically a shower in which they share. Where they’ll be wrapped up in each other and utterly devoted to _thanking_ each other for such a wonderful life.

There’s a vague niggling in the back of their minds that they’re ditching their own party. Specifically Opal’s voice admonishing them for leaving, slinking away like they always do. They’ll make it up to them in the morning with a huge pancake breakfast, and a photo taken in front of cabin three; another fine addition to the wall at the Sato Manor to make up for how categorically _uncouth_ they’ve been.

They’re aware they _shouldn’t_ be doing this but, to their credit, that’s never stopped them before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm Kissing You - Des'ree
> 
> Love You For A Long Time - Maggie Rogers
> 
> Crowded Table - The Highwomen
> 
> Auld Lang Syne - Guy Lombardo
> 
> Hello Readers! I hope this fic finds you well - really!  
> Writing this has been my saving grace throughout a truly shitty 2020 and I don't know what I'm going to do without it. I'm truly humbled by the response I've had to this and Honeymooners*, and I didn't expect the impact the themes and story would have on others, I've had people telling me they're coming out to their folks, and have been inspired to be their true authentic selves - more than one - that is insane to me! (And I am so happy for them!) I am so incredibly touched by every comment and kudos.  
> If you liked this last chapter please do me a favour and leave comments, say anything at all, because I want to keep the feeling of joy this whole process gives me alive in 2021. It's already something of a struggle. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and if you're at a loss check out some of my other fics, or follow me on tumblr/ ask me questions. Check out the art made for the Marriage or Bust series by 5hio (find on tumblr and chapter 7 and *recently I commissioned them to create the photo from the Honeymooners)
> 
> Stay safe out there all, keep your spirits up, listen to the music, and keep reading nonsense to keep your sanity.
> 
> Best,  
> HoHF
> 
> Ps As always, special thanks to Kitty Mannequin

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to Kitty Mannequin
> 
> EDIT I notice the spotify thingy has stopped working, on the chapter with the mostest songs - Hooray for irony!  
> Here's the link for any of you copy and pasters out there -> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1BI5rednf8BJfjC4TelqOn?si=fUpZ-EyJSf-NGkILani3-Q&utm_source=copy-link


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